


hide me in your heart and mind

by thefirstweepingangelcas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety Issues, Fluff and Angst, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, POV Alternating, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:52:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefirstweepingangelcas/pseuds/thefirstweepingangelcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam reaches out to Dean after several years with no contact.<br/>He wants his big brother in his life again, Dean however seems reluctant and just slowly opens up about his life and what happend to him after Sam left for Stanford. When he finally does, Sam is more than surprised to find out about his brother's new life and the people in it.<br/>Still, Dean's past is darker than Sam ever thought possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hide me from my past mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> this is unbetad (i'm not a native speaker) and a work in progress  
> ideas and criticism are very welcome  
> depending on how you guys like this will either be short or may evolve to be a long fic with time stamps and all the works!

  

„No! We are not talking about this. You lost the right to ask me that, the minute you went away to Stanford. You did not just leave Dad. You left me, too.“

Sam could have dealt with yelling. But the quiet, composed tone of his brother scared him far more.  
„Oh come on, Dean. That's not fair. I didn't want to get away from you. And you know that.“

„Did not feel like it.“  
And with that Dean stood up and threw some money on the sticky table of the rundown diner.  
„I appreciate you asking. But when you changed your number and stopped answering my emails, you lost the right to expect anything from me.  
You don't deserve anything from me. Not anymore. I need to go to work now.“

„At least tell me what it is that you do?“

„No.“

„But...“

„Not now, Sam. I need to go. If you are serious about us reconnecting, come meet me at the Roadhouse tomorrow at 6.“

With that he left, leaving his brother staring after him. Sam hadn't realized how deeply he had hurt his brother.  
When Dean had called him Sam instead of Sammy, he started to understand, but still something told him that he still hadn't grasped the extend of how hurt Dean really was.  
He tried to remember the last time Dean called him Sam, but couldn't come up with anything. It had always been Sammy. And he had always tried to correct him.  
_„It's Sam. I am not a chubby nine year old anymore!“_ Apparently Dean had stopped thinking of him like that. Or stopped thinking about him as his brother...  
And there was something else. Dean not wanting to tell him what happened between him and their Dad nagged at him. For a very brief moment Dean had seemed scared. His big brother with his cocky attitude and self-asured demeanor who never was scared of anything had been afraid.

 _Maybe he will tell me more tomorrow_ , Sam thought. _At least he agreed to meet me again._

  

***

  

When Sam had woken up the day after his graduation party he felt restless beside his massive hangover. He was finished with school, he had his dream job line up and his girlfriend of the past two and a half years had agreed to marry him. But still he felt like there was something missing in his live. When he talked to Jess about it she cautiously mentioned his brother.  
His big brother whom he hadn't spoken to for years. Sam did feel bad about that and he did in fact miss his brother. His stubborn overprotective brother.

Dean had been furious when he saw the Stanford acceptance letter.

“Why can't you just be happy for me, Dean?”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would freak out like this.”

“Maybe I wouldn't freak out if I had known about it. If you had bothered to tell me you even applied.”

“You just don't want me to leave. You never did.”

“I don't? Sammy I want you to go to college. You should have told me.”

“But you don't want me to go to Stanford.”

“No, of course I don't want you to move across the whole damn country.”

“I just want to get away from Dad. I want a new start. Someplace I won't be the kid with an alcoholic father. Where I won't be the kid with the dead mom. Someplace I won't be judged for my family...”

“Where you won't be judged for your high school drop-out brother?”

“That's not what...”

“Just go, Sammy. I always knew you would leave here as soon as you possibly could.

Sam had left for Stanford the next week. Dean had been quiet the days following their argument. When Sam got into the car to leave the mess that was his family behind, he couldn't help but feel guilty. Dean had dropped out of high-school to support the family while their Dad drunk away the hard earned money. Sam owed everything to his brother. But somehow he couldn't wait to get away from everything that was his live until now. And that included Dean.  
So he never answered Dean's calls and barely responded to the emails until they stopped coming.

  

***

  

“Just call him, Sam. I am sure he misses you, too.”  
Jess had tried to assure him. From time to time she had mentioned his brother over the last years, seeing how much her boyfriend missed him.

“But Jess, I haven't talked to him in years. Even if I still have the right number... why in the world would he still want to talk to me?”

“Maybe he will be mad. Maybe he won't want to talk to you. But you should try to fix things. At least give him the chance to decide for himself if he wants you back in his live. I think you owe him that.”

As usual Jess had been right. He owed Dean, more than he could ever repay.  
Which let to a very nervous Sam trying to research his brother on the internet. With no success at all, there was no Dean Winchester anywhere to be found.  
So he decided to try it the old fashioned way and to just call the number he had. Even if it was a few years old. He could still worry about his next step after that hadn't work out.  
After staring at his phone for a couple of minutes and encouraging and then finally a threat from Jess he dialed the number.  
To his surprise someone answered the phone rather quickly. Ad it was definitely his brother who answered.

“Hello?”

“Um, Dean? It's Sam.”

“...”  
For a moment there was just silence on the other side. Then he heard his brother telling someone that he needed to take that call and he'd be right back.

“What can I do for you?”  
This was so wrong. Dean sounded way to formal, like he expected Sam to demand something from him.

“I... I wanted to... I am sorry.” Sam managed to get out.

“Good for you.” Dean sounded almost bored.

“I finished college.”

“Good for you.”

“Can we... maybe... can I see you?”

“Do you want to? Or do you just feel guilty?” Now it was less boredom and more suppressed anger.

“Both?”

“Fine. We can meet.” It changed to annoyed.

“Thank you.”  
Sam was somewhat relieved. It wasn't a complete no.

“You need to come to me, then. I can't leave here."

“Okay..? Uh. Where are you?”

“I live in Riverside, CA. I need to get back to work. Call me when you're in the area.”

With that Dean hung up and left Sam starring at the phone in his hand. Dean had sounded completely indifferent to the idea of seeing him.  
Suddenly he was very nervous. He literally knew nothing about his brother. He hadn't even known Dean had moved away from Lawrence and their father. Which was the last thing expected him to do.

 

 ***

  

When Dean ended the call he wasn't sure how he felt. He had wanted so nad for his brother to call him. Years he had waited for his phone to ring, until he finally gave up and learned to accept the fact that his brother, whom he had spent years taking care of didn't want him in his live.  
But now that it was happening, now that he had called, he felt the all too familiar panic lurking in the back of his mind. He leaned back against the wall trying to keep his breathing even.  
_I can't do this. _I can't do_ handle talking to Sam and have him walk out on me again... I need to tall him about father._  
_And I will ask things, wanting to now what I do for a living, he will expect me to explain..._

Suddenly Dean's thought were interrupted when he felt strong arms pulling him away from the wall he was leaning against and into a warm embrace.

“Breathe, Dean.”

“Cas.”  
A hand came up to stroke his hair.

“What's wrong?”

“Sam called.”

“Sam? As in... Sam?”  
Dean nodded, not trusting his voice.

“But that is a good thing, isn't it?” Castiel asked cautiously.  
Getting Dean to talk about his feelings or worse his family was never an easy thing to do. Especially when it was about his feelings about said family.

“I... I'm not sure. What does he want now. Does he need help? Maybe he's not alright. Maybe he's sick. Why does he want to talk to me now? What if he leaves again? What if...he cares, I can't...”

“Shh, it's alright, Dean. Calm down. If he wants to talk you should listen. You can kick him to the curb later. Or you can beat the crap out of him. I know some people who'd volunteer to help.  
And then you can still let him back into your live. You're the one in control here. Even if it doesn't feel like it now. And he won't care. You raised him right.”

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas pulling him closer and burying his face the crook of his neck.

“Thank you.”

“Always. Now come on. There are some very important decisions to be made. They will take your mind of it for a while and we can talk about it later, let it sink in for a while.”

Dean pulled back and looked confused up to Cas.

"Important decisions?"

“We had a very important discussion before. Do you want to order pizza or Chinese?”

Dean smiled. Though it didn't quite reach his eyes.  
“Dork... thank you.”


	2. a preview to the life of Dean Winchester

Sam was halfway to Riverside when he texted Dean, telling him he was about three hours away. Dean texted him back a while later telling him to meet him in a diner, it's address and told him to call when he rolled into town. Sam wasn't to sure what to think about the fact that Dean wanted to meet him in a diner and not at his home. But he tried to talk himself into believing that the diner was maybe close to Dean's workplace or somehow more convenient. It didn't quite work. He couldn't shake the feeling that maybe Dean wasn't exactly thrilled to see him again.

A few hours later he pulled in a parking space a cross the diner. It was called Burger Heaven and looked quite run down but when Sam entered he saw that it was very crowded inside. Almost every table was taken. He looked around searching and spotted Dean in the back. He was talking to someone on the phone. While he made his way over to the booth, Sam took the chance to take a good look at his brother. He looked different. And not just because he was older. He sat straighter and seemed more carefree than he had ever seen him. He looked happy. Sam wasn't sure if he had ever seen his brother truly happy. Then Dean looked up and met his gaze. His happy smile changed to something more forced. But he didn't look angry. Sam hoped that was a good thing.

“Alright he's here. I got to go. Tell them I will be back soon. Call me if you need to. Yes. Thank you.”

He made no move to get up but gestured Sam to sit.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Dean.”

“You look good. Could use a haircut though.”

Still not mad, Sam noted. He smiled slightly.  
“So I have been told. … How are you?”

“Fine. Listen Sam. I am pretty sure you didn't drive here to ask me how I was doing. So tell me what you want, so we can get to that.”  
This time there was an edge to his voice, but it wasn't quite anger.

“I wanted to apologize. And I was hoping that maybe you would be open to the idea of having me in your live again.”

“I don't want your apology. I don't need you to be sorry.”  
Dean's face was very calm and reminded Sam of the expression Dean usually wore around their father. It was some kind of blank masc showing no emotion at all.

“I am though.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Sam looked down at his hands.  
“I... have no real answer to that. I needed a fresh start. And I thought if I kept talking to you it would pull me back. Back to Dad. And I didn't want that.  
I needed to get away from the mess that was our family. And in my mind you were included in that mess.”

Before Dean could give an answer to that a waitress appeared next to them.

“What can I get you guys? Oh hey! How are you, Dean? How are things?”  
She took his hand and pressed a kiss on the back of his hand. Sam was confused by this gesture, Dean seemed to find it normal though. He smiled up at her.

“Things are things, they are what they are.”

“Well aren't you the optimist today. Make sure to call me later so I can come over and cheer you up."  
She said with a waggling of her eyebrows.

“That sounds vaguely dirty, Anna.”

“It's a gift. What can I say. Anyway, call me when you get home?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Good boy.”

Dean rolled his eyes.  
“Can I get a coffee, or are you to busy making dirty innuendos?”

“I'll see what I can do, sweety. And what can I get gigantor over here?”

Dean smiled at that.  
“Nice one, Anna.”

“I aim to please.”  
She said with a flashy grin and a wink.

“I'll have the special and some water please.”

“Alrighty then. Be right back.”

With that she dashed of, leaving a slightly overwhelmed Sam and a chuckling Dean.

“So, that's Anna.”

“Who is she?”

“She's a friend.”

“A friend? Or a girlfriend?”  
Sam had to ask. He knew Deans track record when it came to girls.

“A friend.”

They sat in silence until Anna reappeared with their drinks and Sam's burger. To Sam's surprise she set them down quietly and rushed of.

“Look, Sam. I get what you are saying. Maybe I even understand it. But...”

There it was. The big but. Sam prepared himself for the get out of my live, I don't ever want to see you again. But even now Dean didn't look angry. He looked maybe, if you knew him very well, youd think e just looked sad behind this carefully maintained calm.

“... but I spent nineteen years, almost all my live, looking after you. Protecting you from everything I could. And then you left. You didn't even bother to check if I was doing okay. That is not something I can easily forgive. You didn't even give me a number for emergencies. I... I couldn't even call you when I needed you.”

He broke of, and now there was anger, but most of all there was hurt. Sam had never seen that look on his brothers face. He hated it. But even more he hated himself for putting it there.

“What happened? Why did you need me?”

“I needed to tell you something.”  
Dean looked down at his hands, he was gripping his cup tightly.

“What did you need to tell me?”  
Sam was anxious now. Dean truly was upset about this.

“Dean, what happened?”

Dean looked up, his face again composed, showing no emotions.  
“Father died in a car crash five years ago.”

“What?”

The noise in the background of the diner became a fuzzy noise. Sam tried to understand what his brother just told him. That must have been terrible for Dean. And dealing with the loss of their father all on his own... How could he have abandoned his brother like that. He never thought something like that could happen.

“Oh my god. Dean, I am so sorry.”

“I'm not." Dean muttered quietly.

That was unexpected. Dean had always obeyed every order their father had thrown at them. Had always defended him and almost worshiped the man.

“What?”

Dean sighed, apparently he had hoped Sam hadn't heard.  
“I am not sorry he is dead.”  
Dean's face was cold and his gaze absent. Then he shook his head and snapped out of it.

“What? Dean? What happened? How can you say that?”

“It doesn't matter now. It was a long time ago.”

“Dean! Tell me!”  
Sam was worried. What could have happened to change Dean's opinion of their father this much?  
“Dean, I deserve to know!”

The minute these words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Dean looked like he was about to punch him in the face, his hands were shaking slightly.  
“Dean, please just tell me? What happened? What did Dad do?”  
  
The "what did he do to you?" was left unspoken...


	3. don't look too closely

Dean exited the diner and walked behind the building to the private parking, where Anna had allowed him to park his car. He got into the Impala and slammed the door shut. He tried to calm down but he knew it wouldn't work. He needed Cas. He felt anxious and nervous. He hated this. He knew that seeing his brother would bring back memories, but Sam explicitly asking what their father had done, had been bad. He had known it the minute he heard the words. The words, too similar to Dr. Moseley's. _“What did you father do?”_ They were the same, bringing back the same pictures and emotions. He closed his eyes, gripping the pendant lying on his chest hidden by his shirt. Trying to remember the reason it somehow it had been worth it.

“Dean?”

He heard the door of the Impala open and then Anna slipped in.

“Dean! I need you to keep breathing. Alright. ... There you go.”

Dean grasped her hand an squeezed it tightly.

“Just listen to my voice. I am here. You are alright. Everyone is okay. No one will hurt you. No one can hurt you. Breathe, Dean.”

Slowly the fog in Dean's mind lifted and he could focus on Anna, who looked very worried but smiled at him when she noticed he was with her again.

“My shift is over, I can drive you home. Do you want me to call Castiel?”

Dean shook his head.  
“He's at home. Thank you. I can drive myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Driving calms me down. I promise I will be okay. I'll call you when I'm there?”

“If you're sure. You'd better call!”

Again she pulled his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to it. She looked at him estimating if he was truly alright, then nodded and climbed out of the car.

“Bye Anna.”

  

***

 

It took Dean longer than usual to make the drive back home. He was still a little shaky from his almost panic attack and drove slowlier than most days. But it hadn't been a lie what he had told Anna. Driving always calmed him down. The Impala had been the only reliable constant in his live up until five years ago at least. Still, he was glad when the familiar house came into view. He smiled when he saw a familiar figure waiting on the porch. He should have known that Anna would call Cas. He pulled up next to the the piece of rust and metal Cas called a car and got out of the Impala. When he turned around he saw Cas already walking towards him, still on the phone with Anna.

 “He's here now, you can stop worrying. Thank you for calling me. You know I will.”

  

“Hey there, Cas.”

“Hallo, Dean.”

Dean felt the first real smile stretching across his face at this familiar greeting. He still wondered if one day his heart won't beat faster when hearing Castiel say his name. Probably not though.

“How are you, love?”

“Better now.”  
Dean said and pulled Cas into a tight hug.  
“You make everything better.”

“Sap."  
Cas smiled brightly and pulled back to place a tender kiss to Dean's cheek.  
“Come on. Let's go inside. I made you pie. And I want you to eat it and then tell me what happened.”

“Yes, Dr. Novak.”

“You now very well that I am not a doctor.”

“But you did make me all better.”

“Stop being ridiculous and get inside!”

And with that he pulled Dean inside, pushed him towards the kitchen and towards a chair.

“Now, do you want something else to eat or is the pie enough?”

“You didn't just ask me that, did you?

Shaking his head Cas replied.  
“I should have known better. Only you would think of pie as a sufficient dinner, do you wanr a beer?”

“Yes, please.”

Soon a beer and an apple pie was placed in front of Dean and Castiel sat down next to him.

“How are you? Do you want to tell me what happened? How did it go?”

“Easy there, Cas. Let me eat my pie!”  
Dean sighed.  
“I don't know how I'm doing. I feel kind of on edge now. I am just waiting for it to come crashing down on me.”

Cas pushed his chair closer to Dean's resting a hand on his leg.  
“And how do you feel about Sam?”

“I... I think he means it. He was worried about me. I could see it in his eyes. I told him to meet me tomorrow at Ellen's. I think he will come. I think I want him to come.”

“But?” Cas prompted.

“I am scared. I just got to a good place. I got over him leaving. I got over my father. I found you. I have a job I love and and am good at. I found myself a new family. A better one. One by choice.  
I don't want to lose that.”

“You won't. Why do you think you would?”

“I don't know. I don't think it's a rational thought. I'm scared he will judge me. Because if he stays in my live, he will find out. I will have to tell him. Tell him everything. And then he will see me differently. And I might lose him again.”

“Maybe you are more afraid of hurting Sam, than hurting yourself?”

Dean smiled wryly.  
“Stop shrinking me Cas.”

“Sorry.”  
Cas leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Dean's lips.

“You're right though. I will destroy everything he remembers from his childhood. Every memory, every picture will be tainted.”

“It's not your fault, Dean.”

“I know.” Dean pushed his plate away from him. And turned to look at Cas who was watching him intently.  
“You're staring, babe.”

Castiel blushed and looked away for a moment only to glance back at Dean.  
“Sorry.”

“You know I don't mind. I've gotten used to it.”

He grinned. Then he stood up and pulled Cas with him. Now that he was home with Cas he felt better, but he still was on edge.

“Do you want to pretend to watch a movie while we make out on the couch?”

That drew a laugh out of Dean. Cas always knew what he needed. And in this case it was to forget about his brother and let himself be cuddled by Cas.  
It was true, he always made everything better.

“Best idea I heard all day.”

Cas turned on the TV and zapped through the programs until he found a movie, it was a movie they had (not) watched before. But it would do. He sat down next to Dean and pulled him closer. His arms wrapping around Dean's middle and brushing his lips along his cheek. Immediately Dean pulled him flush against his chest and a hand came up to rest in his hair. Cas smiled, they wouldn't make it though half of the movie before one of them gave in and dragged the other to the bedroom.


	4. take it all in

Sam spent the next day aimlessly wandering around in Riverside. He had never been there before – but then again why would he have been. He made the way to Los Angeles twice, but he never particularly liked it. He preferred the less crowded but more alive area around San Francisco.  
He wondered why his brother had chosen this town. Was it because of a girl? Because of a job? As he walked street after street he tried to imagine the life his brother led here. Tried to picture him sitting in diners, going for a walk or shopping in the stores... His clothes had been casual when he saaw him yesterday. Dean had claimed having to go to work when he left. That probably was a lie, but you never know. Still he couldn't imagine Dean in a typical nine to five job, wearing a suite and a tie, eating a salad for lunch. He always saw him in a more hands-on job, like a mechanic or maybe even a chef. He had always been good at cooking and when their Dad wasn't around he had even enjoyed it. Sam sighed. He had been so stupid. In hindsight he knew that he knew he was making a mistake while he was doing it. And he did it anyway. He could have stayed in contact. At least through email. Then he wouldn't have to imagine different scenarios wondering if his brother was happy here. He'd know.

 

***

 

Finally it was time to go to the Roadhouse, which seemed to be a mix between a bar, a restaurant and maybe even a club. Dean had texted him the address earlier and sure enough it was easy to find. Sam pulled into the parking lot, there were several cars there already but no car which he thought to be Dean's, who probably was still driving the Impala when he thougt about it. He exited the car and looked around. The Roadhouse was at the edge of the town, yet close enough to still be a part of it. It looked old and run down but at the same time very well kept. Across the street was an auto salvage called Singer-Novak. Sam noticed that the Novak part of the sign seemed to be fairly new. It was a lot shinier than the name Singer, which was rusty and looked like it was about to fall of.

Taking a minute to gather his nerves, Sam took a couple of deep breaths and then entered the Roadhouse.  
Dean had told him to give the barkeeper his name and then wait for him. So Sam made his way toward the bar, where a young blonde girl was busying herself restocking glasses for the late night rush.

"Hello?"

The girl turned around and smiled.  
"Hey yourself. What can I do for you?."

"My name is Sam Winchester..."

Her friendly expression changed to pissed as soon as he said Winchester. She managed to get it under control but there was a very fake politeness in the way she spoke to him.  
"I'll show you to your table, then."  
She led him to the corner of the room, gesturing for him to sit.  
"I will get Dean for you. Do you want to order now, or wait for him?"

"I'll wait, Thank you."  
He managed to get out, before she turned and walked a way.

It only took a few minutes of the girls staring at him and watching his every move until she turned away from him and to the door, where Dean just entered. He was again wearing jeans and a shirt, not looking like he came from work.

"Hey Jo! How are you?"

Apparently the girl's name was Jo, who's frown changed to a loving smile when she greeted Dean. She leaned over the bar and when Dean stepped closer, just like Anna had, took his hand and kissed it.  
Sam couldn't here what they were talking about, but soon Jo pointed in his direction. Sam watched his brother smiling at Jo one last time and then turning and walking towards him.

"Hey, Dean."

He slid into the booth across from Sam and nodded at him.  
"So, how do you wanna do this?"

"Do what?" Sam asked confused.

"How did you think this would work."

Dean gestured between them. Sam smiled slightly at him.

"To be perfectly honest, I didn't. I thought you would hang up the phone as soon as I said my name. Or that you'd punch me in the face."

Dean's carefully maintained calm seemed to waver a minute.  
"That is still not out of the question."

"I think Jo will be willing to help with that."  
At that Dean finally smiled.  
"She your girlfriend?"

"No Sam she isn't. Quit asking. I don't have a girlfriend."  
Sam noticed that this was the first information Dean volunteered without any promting. 

"Sorry. ... Maybe we can start with asking and answering questions. I would like to know somethings and I'm hoping you might, too."

Dean seemed to think about that for a minute.  
"Alright. But I might not want to answer some of your questions. At least not right away. Not until I'm sure."

"Fair enough."

This was going better than he thought. Maybe Dean really wanted him back in his life. For the first time he dared to hope, when Dean waved at Jo and ordered them some drinks.

"If you want to eat something, Ellen makes amazing burgers."

"Sounds good."

When Jo brought their beers, Dean ordered a cheeseburger and Sam did the same.

"Alright. Let's play twenty questions. Go ahead, Sam."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm working part time for a auto-repair shop."

"The one a cross the street? Part time?"

"No. My turn Sam."  
Sam nodded. Fair enough.

"Why did you contact me now?"

Sam sighed.  
"Wow, you go right to it."  
But Dean just kept looking at him, not bothering to answer.  
"I fished school. I passed the bar exam. I'm a lawyer now. My life is perfect now. But... you're not in it."

"I wasn't in it for the past few years, Sam."

"I know. I... was so desperate for independence that I pushed you away. And then I was scared. It took Jess to kick my ass pretty hard for me to actually have the nerve to call you. She said you deserved the chance to punch me in the face. I guess she had a point."

"Who's Jess?"

"My fiancee."

Dean smiled, it was tiny but it was there.

"I think I like her." 

They were interrupted by a stern looking woman, who brought their burgers. She placed them in front of them and turned to Dean.

"Everything okay?"  
It could have been a question asked by a waitress concerning food or drinks, but the way she looked at Dean made it seem more like a mother asking and comforting her child.

"Getting there."  
That was a more honest answer then Sam had expected, especially coming from his brother. But maybe he changed over the last years.

"Sam, this is Ellen. She owns the place. She's my... she's family."

"Nice to meet you."  
Ellen turned to Sam and he could immediately see her close relation to Jo. The "We'll see about that." he was greeted with, was not exactly a warm welcome. At least she wasn't openly glaring at him across the room like Jo was. With one last warning look at Sam she left the brothers to talk.

“So my turn?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded.

“Why did you move to Riverside?”

Dean seemed to hesitate.  
“I... I was on my way someplace else. Had some car troubles and kind of got stuck here. I started to work at the place that fixed the Impala. Came in here on my first day in town, bar-tended for a while. Made friends. And I stayed. How did you meet Jess?”

Sam was not entirely satisfied with the answer but he understood Dean's reservations. He needed to earn his trust and couldn't expect him to spill his entire life story so soon after all this time they spent not talking.

“We met at a friends birthday party in my first year of law school. We've been together since. She's in law, too. She wants to go into family law...”

Sam was just about to elaborate on his choices and his interest in business law they were interrupted by a red haired girl sliding in the booth next to Dean.

“What's up bitches?”

Dean laughed.  
“I am still waiting for you to do that while I have an important meeting.”

“Oh, shut up, Dean. I asked Jo who you were with. Boy, she does not like you.”  
She pointed at Sam.

“I noticed.”

“Well at least you're not a complete idiot.”

“Uhm...”

“Sam, this freaky force of nature is my best friend Charlie.”  
And with a stern look at Charlie he added,  
“We don't want to scare him of again, so please behave.”  
It was said lightly but Sam had the feeling that Dean did in fact mean it.

“Alright, pouty pants. Just let me stay and enjoy the view.”

Dean rolled her eyes at her.  
“Fine. You can stay. Or you could just suck it up and march your ass over to the bar and finally ask Jo out. Because seriously your constant mooning over her is pathetic and quite frankly nauseating. That girl is basically my little sister! So please stop talking to me about her...”

Charlie held her hands up in defeat.  
“Fine I will go stare at her from the bar. There's a better view anyway. Especially when she bends over to...”

“Charlie!”

“I'm going!”  
She pressed a kiss to her palm and placed it over Dean's hand resting on the table.

“Keep being boring.”

“Keep being annoying and I will send you a very interesting home video I made the other night!”

Charlie almost ran across the bar with a look of utter disgust on her face. Dean smirked.

“Sorry 'bout her.”

He said to his brother who had witnessed their little banter with great interest. Then he turned his attention back to his burger.

“Uhm, Dean?”  
Dean looked up from his burger.  
“What's with the hand thing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I noticed that I am having trouble to differentiate between Britsh and American English.  
> I hope I fixed it all, since it is a little confusing. My vocabulary is mainly american but I spell everything british.  
> So feel free to point that out to me, too. 
> 
> Anyways, comments and criticism are appreciated.


	5. be gentle with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little warning: mention of violence and non-con. it's very brief and not at all graphic.  
> please be safe if you think it might affect you in any way.

 

To be honest Dean had been surprised it had taken his brother this long to pick up on it. It wasn't exactly a common form of greeting. Dean on the other hand was so used to it that he barely noticed it anymore, only being reminded when other people witnessing it were confused by it. Most people didn't ask though, they just looked confused for a few moments and then shook it of, not bothering.

Benny had noticed when he had seen him with Charlie for the first time. He was one of the few to wonder out loud. Well, not actually out loud. He had looked at Dean and Charlie quizzically but waited for Charlie to go get them drinks, then he simply said, “Charlie's usually kind of a hugger.” And then when Dean hadn't responded stated, “you don't like to be touched.”  
And from that point on Benny, also quite the hugger, had refrained from any physical display of affection.

 

***

 

“ _You don't like to be touched_.” There was no question about it, he didn't. He really didn't. Not after everything that had happened.  
Every touch on his skin brought back memories. Memories of the flames that killed his mother burning his skin. Memories of his fathers fist on his ribs, when he messed up, when he simply was at the wrong place at the wrong time, when he refused to beg for forgiveness. Memories of the slurs and insults thrown at him while he was bleeding on the floor. Memories of knives, needles and stitches breaking his skin. Memories of unwanted touches in dimly lit bars and alleys.  
  

***

 

 Dean didn't really want to explain this to his brother. It was bringing back many memories and the truth would cause Sam to ask a lot of questions.  
But then again this was probably a good time as any to start mentioning things to his brother and let him draw his on conclusions, so maybe a version of the truth was the way to go.

“It's our greeting.”

“But Anna and Jo did it, too. So it's not just you and Charlie.”

“It's a nice greeting. They picked it up along the way.”  
Dean could see that Sam obviously wasn't buying this casual dismissing of the question.

“There's more to it, though?”

Dean took a deep breath, counting in his mind while trying to keep his breathing even. He looked searchingly across the bar and noticed Charlie watching them.  
He waited for her to acknowledge his silent plea to stay nearby. She smiled and nodded at him, turning her chair to face in their direction.  
He turned his attention back to Sam but focused on his reflection in the window instead of looking directly at him.

“Sam, this is not exactly something I usually share. You are my brother so I am giving you the need to know information, but if you want to know the rest, you will need to be patient. And I need you to accept that you can not push this issue or ask any further questions. Are you okay with that?”

“Uh, yes. I guess. I mean, I don't have the right to push anything here, do I?”

That earned him a short glance from Dean, who immediately noticed his brother staring at him as if he tried to read his mind.

“I mean it Sam. No questions.”

“I promise.”

Dean nodded. Here goes nothing he thought.  
“ I … I don't like to … be touched. I don't want people to hug me. Charlie noticed that very quickly and she changed the way she greeted me. Instead of a hug, she would kiss my hand. I don't know where she got the idea. It did really rub of on the others. That's all the information you get for now.”

Dean watched his brothers face while explaining. It had changed from interest to concern to worry when Dean refused to elaborate further. But he didn't press. Instead he nodded.

“For now?”

“Maybe you'll get the full story one day, but not now, and probably not any time soon.”

“Fair enough.”

 

 ***

  

After that their conversation flew somewhat more easily. Dean felt him self loosen up a little. Sam seemed to respect his reluctance to share certain facts about his live and accepted his vague answers while talking freely himself. He even seemed to genuinely like Charlie, who returned a while later to say goodbye with a huge smile on her face. Her good mood was explained later when Jo came around to collect their plates and thanked Dean for kicking Charlies butt. Apparently they had a date tomorrow night.  
Sam didn't seem bothered which calmed Dean a little bit. But just a little bit. Still he decided to take the risk. If Sam cared about Cas he didn't want him in his life.

“So, Sam. It's getting kind of late and I need to get home, I have to work tomorrow morning.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yes. I promised some people I'd come by. I can't disappoint 'em.”

“What do you do, beside fixing cars?”

Dean just shook his head.  
“Not important. I will tell you eventually. Maybe. But, if you want you can come to dinner tomorrow. If you're still here, that is.”

“I can be.”  
Sam looked hopeful.

“Okay. If you want to you can come by my place at around 7. I'll text you the address.”

Sam looked happy when he heard that Dean wanted to have him over for dinner. He just hoped that will stay that way when he met Cas. He hoped Cas had been right when he said that Dean had raised his brother right. He certainly had tried.

 

They said their goodbyes in the parking lot, and Dean had already taken a few steps away from Sam when he heard his brother call after him. He turned around and walked back to Sam.

“Yeah?”

Sam looked somewhat nervous.  
“I was just wondering... uh... I... sorry.”  
He broke of and looked away.

“What is it, Sam?”

“Could I. Or could you...”

“What do you want?”

“You can say no, of course, obviously you can, but...”

“Quit babbling and spit it out already!”

“May I hug you?”

Dean blinked. That was not what he was expecting. Like, at all. But Sam was already back paddling.

“Sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I mean you said, but you said you don't like it, not that you can't... I don't want to push. But I'm just so happy you're giving me this chance. I never thought you'd...”

“Sam, shut up for a minute.”

Dean appreciated that his brother asked, the request had thrown him a little but it was nice to see that Sam had taken him seriously.  
He understood the impulse behind it, when he first had seen his brother he would have loved nothing more than to pull him into a bone crushing hug and never let go again.  
If he could without slipping into a panic attack. He was glad that apparently his baby brother was feeling the same. Dean continued to stare at Sam without saying a word for a couple of moments trying to decide how to handle the situation.

“That's not a good idea right now. I'm not entirely sure how... I need to get used to the idea. Can I get back to you on that?”

Sam nodded, his face a mix of confusion and worry.  
“Of course. Sorry I asked.”

“It's fine.”  
Dean hesitated a moment, then lightly touched Sam's shoulder.  
“See you tomorrow.”

 

 ***

  

Dean crossed the street to the Impala in the back of Singer-Novaks parking lot, leaving his younger brother to stare after him, pondering the fact that this light touch had been the first physical contact between them, which Sam hadn't noticed before.  
But now that he thought about it he noticed that Dean always put a lot of space between them, or if possible a physical barrier like a table, a counter or a car.  
At first Sam had written it of as resentment or hurt, but now he questioned if maybe there was another reason behind it.

 

***

 

When Dean pulled into the driveway a few minutes later he was glad to see the light threw the living room windows. Of course Cas would still be up. Probably worrying about him. He opened the door and walked into Cas who was pacing in the hallway.

“Dean.”

He sounded relieved and immediately pulled him into a tight hug. For the first time tonight Dean felt all the tension drain away from him. He pulled him closer and breathed in his scent trying to completely relax.

“I was worried.”

“Why?”

“It's pretty late. I thought maybe you didn't want to come home yet.”

Dean smiled into Cas' hair.  
“I always want to come home. … No it was fine. He was nice. I think he understands my need to be careful around him. I just left the Roadhouse.”

Cas muttered something quietly.

“What was that Cas?”

Cas sighed and blushed slightly.  
“I know, I called Ellen.”

Dean huffed a laugh. Of course Cas did.

“I'm sorry I worried you. I hadn't realized it was that late.”

“I'm glad you had a good time. You need to spent time together."

Castiel reluctantly let go of Dean and took a moment to actually look at him. He looked better than he had expected. He seemed more relaxed now then this morning, even though he could tell Dean was nervous. It seemed to be a happy nervousness mixed in between the anxiousness and panic he was waiting to find on his features.  
Dean caught his imploring gaze and blushed slightly under the scrutiny.

“You're staring again, angel.”

Cas just smiled but then took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

“You have to get up early tomoorw. You should go to sleep.”

“Yeah, you're right.”

Dean brushed his teeth and then stripped of his jeans and shirt, while Cas slipped under the blanket watching him intently.  
Finally Dean joined Cas under the covers and immediately pulled him close.

"So... uh... I invited Sam to dinner. I want you to meet him.”

“I would like that. … Does he know..?”

“That you're a guy?”  
Cas nodded.

“No, he doesn't. I haven't mentioned you at all. He doesn't know he will meet anyone tomorrow.”

Dean felt Cas tense slightly in his arms, but he didn't say anything. Dean could guess what was wrong though. He had needed a long time to come to terms with his sexuality, telling the family had always been out of the question since there was no family to come out to. But even when it had come to telling Ellen and Bobby about his relationship with Cas he had needed a long time to feel ready. Maybe to long. He should have known that they didn't give a damn, but after his father he had been unbelievably scared.

“I successfully evaded all questions about it by telling him that I didn't have a girlfriend. Which is one hundred percent true. You're no girl. You're the most amazing man I ever had the pleasure of knowing. And I am not hiding you. But I am scared. I don't know him well enough to know what to expect. And if he reacts like... if he reacts badly, I need you there. I can't do it without you.”

“Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me for something that you should be able to expect from me. I'm sorry it took me so long to be with you. To really be with you. But I was never ashamed of you. I hope you know that.  
I was ashamed of me. Of my past.”

Dean heard the intake of breath and could almost hear the impromptu speech that was about to follow and opened his eyes to put a finger on Cas' lips. “I know it was not my fault. There is no reason to be ashamed. I do know that, now. But it took time. … Anyway, he's coming tomorrow and I want to show you of. So please be here.”

Cas slowly pulled Dean's finger away from his lips, smiled and leaned over to kiss his forehead.

“I'll be there.”


	6. do you see what I see?

 

The next day Castiel woke up to an empty bed. He sighed and sneaked a peek at the clock on the bedside table. It was only eight in the morning.  
“Dammit Dean.” he muttered. He rolled out of the bed, pulled on some sweats and a shirt and then headed downstairs prepared for the worst.  
There was no way in hell Dean wasn't freaking out. He could hear music coming from the living room and cautiously walked in.  
Dean was half lying half sitting on the couch and was fast asleep. That was better than Cas expected.

But then he noticed the state of the room which the night before had been fairly tidy, but now it was squeaky clean. The books were arranged alphabetically, as were their dvds and cds.  
As Cas took a closer look he saw that Dean had obviously dusted the whole room, washed the curtains and wiped down every surface. There were flowers on the table and the usually crooked pictures on the wall arranged symmetrically.  
He sighed. “Oh Dean.”  
He went over to cover him with a blanket but couldn't spot the blue quilt usually lying on the couch, so he went to get the one from their bedroom. On the way upstairs he noticed that the floor as well as the steps had been mopped. He rushed up the stairs grabbed the blanket and hurried back down, anxious to see what Dean had done to the kitchen.  
But first he made sure to cover Dean with a blanket, he smiled when Dean mumbled “Cas” in his sleep. God, he looked exhausted. When did he get up?  
Knowing him he probably never went to sleep in the first place. And how did he manage to do all that without waking him up?

Quietly Cas walked out of the room, across the hall and into the kitchen. It was not as bad as he expected. It had been cleaned but not as obsessively as the living room.  
There was coffee in the pott and a cup next to it on the table, next to... cookbooks. Only Dean would think he needed a cookbook. He was the most amazing cook, Cas loved it when Dean made them dinner instead of just picking up food from the Roadhouse on the way home.  
He decided to take a closer look at the books. There were a few recipes marked and Cas gave them a quick look. The recipes Dean had chosen were fancier than what he normally cooked, but sounded delicious non the less.  
Cas mentally scolded himself for caring about food, when he obviously missed a miner breakdown of Dean's. Still, he told himself, it could have been worse.  
Indeed it could have been, Dean hadn't woken him up, which was a good thing, he was asleep now and there was no alcohol anywhere in sight.  
Cas took a look at the time, deciding that he needed to wake Dean if he still was planning on going.

He put on a fresh pott of coffee and stacked the books putting them back on the shelf, when he noticed a smaller book he'd never seen before.  
It was old and the edges were torn off, the cover held in place by only a few threads. Curious, he opened it.  
All the recipes were in handwriting, but it wasn't Deans. It looked quite similar though.  
He carefully flipped through the pages, recognizing a few dishes. Close to the end, there was the recipe for Dean's beloved cherry pie.  
While he was reading it, a piece of paper fell out. There, slipped in between the pages, was a picture of a young blonde woman, holding a equally blond, green eyed boy, both of them smiling into the camera. Carefully Cas put the first and only picture he had ever seen of Mary Winchester back between the pages and placed the book on top of the others.

The coffee was done, so he poured a cup for Dean and then for himself and headed over to the living room. He put the cups down on the coffee table and knelt down next to it, reaching out to lightly touch Dean's cheek.

 

***

 

Dean blinked tiredly up at him and then smiled.

“Good Morning.”

“Dean, have you slept at all?”

“Obviously I have. Since you just woke me.“

Cas looked at him unamused and a little worried.

“Don't know. What time is it?”

“It's half past eight. Dean...”

Dean interrupted him with a quick kiss.  
“I'm fine.”

“Are you sure? Because the house has never been this clean. Like, ever.”

“Yeah, I guess I got a little carried a way.”

“A little?"

Dean smiled, having the decency to look a little remorseful.  
“Uh, yeah. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd make myself useful.”

“Do you want me to make you breakfast?”

Dean sighed. Apparently he had officially worried Cas, he never offered to cook, except when Dean was sick or otherwise unable to take care of the food.  
“Cas, I'm fine. There's no need for you to burn the house down. Especially now that it's so clean.”  
He smirked. But apparently Cas didn't think it was funny.  
“No really. I'm fine. The cleaning calmed me down. I was kind of freaking out for a while...”

“No kidding.”

“... but I'm better now. You don't need to coddle me.”

“Please? Let me? And if not for yourself then at least to make me feel better.”  
Cas asked with his very best puppy dog face, pouting slightly.

“Now you're playing dirty. You know I can't say no to that face.”  
Dean smiled and wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him up on the sofa and leaning forward to kiss the pout of his face.

“Stop trying to distract me!”

“Why, is it working?”

Dean slowly pushed Cas down until he was lying on his back and pressed him down, using his body to hold him there. He smiled at him and he could see that Cas was evaluating whether to let it go or to try to get him to talk. He could tell the exact moment Cas gave in, because his hands came up to pull him closer and then slipping under his shirt. They kissed slowly, Cas' hands finding their way into Dean's hair but then pulling back and with a final kiss to Dean's nose pushing him away and sitting up. Now, it was Dean's turn to pout. Cas laughed when he saw his face and pressed another kiss on his cheek.

“As much as I would like to continue this, you have to be somewhere in about forty minutes.”

“Oh, crap.”  
He had completely forgotten, but with Cas kissing him like that seriously, who could blame him?

“You're still going aren't you?”

“Yeah, I promised Ben I'd be there.”

“Alright. Then drink you're coffee, grab a bite to eat and go take a shower. You smell like you took a bath in disinfectant and cleaning supplies.”

“Yeah, okay. I'm going. I'm going.”

 

Twenty minutes later a freshly showered Dean strolled into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Cas, who was standing at the stove, reheating last night's dinner.

“Cas, that's not breakfast.”

“Says the guy who eats pie for dinner.”

Dean just grinned and pressed a kiss to Cas' neck, who giggled and pulled away.  
“Stop it.”

“Alright, I'll leave you to feed yourself then. I'll be back in a few hours.”

“Tell Ben good luck from me."

“I will.”

He leaned in to give Cas a quick goodbye kiss, that turned into something not that chaste for to quickly.

“I need to go.”  
Dean whispered against Cas' lips.

“I'm not stopping you.”  
Cas looked very satisfied with himself, but Dean couldn't help himself, he kissed him again and then basically ran out of the house, shouting an “I love you” in Cas direction.


	7. who are you now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all thank you all for your lovely comments and feedback!  
> You make me very happy.
> 
> Now, I don't know a thing about Riverside. I assume it is a beatiful town, but what do I know...  
> It would have been much easier to pick San Francisco since I have actually been there, but I didn't want Dean to close to Stanford.  
> So, please forgive me for making things up.  
> Also, since I am european I also don't know anything about football, so I wrote about soccer instead.  
> But since I don't really go into it I guess it doesn't really matter. Anyways...  
> I hope you like it.

Last night had been nice, but Dean refusing to hug him hadn't exactly eased Sam's mind. He had started to worry as soon as Dean mentioned his dislike of any physical contact.  
And during the thirty minute walk back to his motel he had a lot of time to think. He thought back to their childhood, he couldn't remember Dean ever refusing to touch someone.  
He always seemed fine, even when numerous girls threw themselves at him. He seemed to like it even. When did that change? What had happened?  
He thought about calling Jess but then remembered that she had a big interview tomorrow, so he thought better of it. They could talk tomorrow.

When he woke up the following morning he still felt nervous, maybe even more so than last night. After a quick shower he was still restless, but didn't know what to do about it. He usually would go running, but he hadn't planned on staying that long, so didn't bring clothes for it. He went to get some breakfast hoping he might find someone to give him advise on how to spent his day.  
He thought about going to the diner he went to with Dean, but he didn't want to push his luck. Jo had been more than ready to punch him in the face and somehow he was sure than Anna wouldn't be as friendly when it was just him.

He went out and dropped by the reception, asking for any interesting things going on, he had seen most of the city yesterday and wasn't really in the mood for sightseeing. The response was a list of museums, a few farmers markets and a flower exhibit in a park close by. He decided to go to the park, since walking was as close to jogging as he could get to day, and it was a beautiful day he didn't want to spend in a museum.

It was a quick drive to the park and soon he pulled into the parking lot. When he existed the car he was met with a group of over exited kids in soccer uniforms and their more annoyed than exited parents. Not exactly what he was picturing when he thought about going to the park, but there was nothing he could do about it now, so he followed the signs to the flower exhibit hoping that it was as far away from the soccer game as possible. But when he got closer he saw that the game was set up opposite to the flowers, because where else would it be?

He was about to enter the exhibit he heard a very exited boy scream:

„Dean, Dean!!!“

Out of reflex he turned around looking for the boy. He figured it was the one waving over-excitedly at someone, jumping up and down.

“Look, he came!! Look, Mom! Look!“

Sam didn't here the boy's mom respond, but then again, nether did the boy, who had dropped his backpack on the ground and was now running towards... Dean.  
Sam stared confused at his brother who didn't seem to mind the boy flinging himself into his arms. He picked him up and spun him around before putting him down again.  
He then waved at the dark haired woman who was walking towards them. Sam was frozen in his spot, watching his brother ruffling the boys hair, Sam remembered Dean doing that to him. He had hated it, then. He kept watching, seeing the boy run of to take his position on the field along with the others, and Dean and the woman went to the sidelines, saying hallo to some other parents, then sitting down on the grass. Finally Sam pulled himself together and looked away.  
Dean hadn't wanted him to know about this, he said he had to work. This was obviously not work. Unless he was the referee. Which going by the jeans, shirt boots combo he was wearing was not the case. But if Dean didn't want him to no, that was, well he wouldn't say fine, but maybe it was his right.  
But who was the kid? Was he his son? He hadn't been close enough to be able to tell if they looked alike. The woman was beautiful, that he could tell even from a far. Sam figured he could think about Dean's supposed family someplace else. Suddenly he remembered Dean saying that he didn't have a girlfriend. No that he was thinking about it, there had been a slight emphasis on the word girlfriend. Maybe he was married to the woman? He pulled himself out of his thought, he didn't want Dean to see him, or thinking that he was stalking him. So he turned around and walked towards the flowers.

 

***

 

Sam left the exhibit about three and a half hours later, having spent a lot more time there than he originally planned but he wanted to give Dean as much time as he could to leave without running into him. He looked over to the soccer field, where the was now some barbeque going on. There were still some kids around but the event seemed to be coming to an end. Sam couldn't spot Dean but saw the boy and his Mom were still there. He sat down on a nearby bench and pulled a book out of his bag trying to pass the time.  
Dinner was still hours away and he couldn't call Jess yet, she promised to call him the minute her interview was over. He barely started reading when he got interrupted:

„You look familiar.“

„Excuse me?“  
Sam looked up and right at the boy he had watched minutes earlier. It appeared he had come over to get the soccer ball which had somehow ended up next to Sam.

„Do I know you?“

„Uh. I don't think so.“

„Are you a friend of my Mom?“

„I don't think so. Who is your Mom?“

„I am.“  
A new voice chimed in.  
„Ben, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?“

„But Mom...“

„I hope he wasn't bothering you?“

„No, he wasn't, he wanted to know if he knew me.“

„I don't think so.“

„That's what I said.“  
Sam smiled.  
„But he is very insistent that I seem familiar.“

„Huh, well anyway I'm Lisa, Lisa Braeden and this is my son Ben.“

„Sam Winchester“

At this point Ben interrupted.  
„Like...“

„Yeah, like Dean.“

„Like Dean? Dean's name is not Winchester.“

„It's not?“  
Sam was very confused now. He definitely had seen them with Dean, but they claimed not to know him?

„But your name is like the gun!“  
Ben interrupted his pondering.

„Uh, yeah, that's right.“

And to Lisa he added. „I'm sorry, I shouldn't do this, but I am very confused. But you do know a Dean and his name is not Winchester?“

„Yes, of course I know Dean, he was here earlier. You just missed him. Why do you ask. Do you know him?"

“Yes. I do. I think. Are you sure his last name isn't Winchester?.“

„Yes, very. His name is Novak. And I have paperwork to prove it.“  
She said with a smile.  
„Why do you think it's Winchester?“

„Uh, because...“

„The picture!“  
Ben screamed, which caused Sam and Lisa to turn and look at him.  
„I know you from the picture,“

„What picture, sweety?“

„When you and Daddy told be about Davy. Dean showed me a picture of his brother. Cause i didn't want a brother.“

„Alright Ben I think we need to head home, then you can tell me the whole story, is that okay?“

„Okay, Mom, I'll say goodbye to my friends.“

„So, Sam, nice meeting you, but we got to go. Say hi to Dean,if you see him and he is who you think he is. Or whatever.“

„Yeah, uh, you, too. I will.“

Sam watched Lisa and Ben walk across the lawn towards the parking lot. What the hell? Dean Novak? Why the hell would Dean change his name?  
What did Lisa mean when she said, she has the paperwork to prove it. Like a marriage license? But the way she was talking about him and the interaction between them he witnessed earlier did not make it seem like they were married. But her name was Braeden, not Novak.  
Novak, why did that name sound familiar? Then he remembered the auto-repair shop next to the roadhouse. Maybe Dean owned it? Maybe he married the daughters owner and took her name? Maybe he simply got married. But why not keep Winchester?  
Dean had always liked the name. _„Like the gun._ “ Just like Ben, Dean had as a kid, often told people that when introducing himself. He loved the name, why change it?


	8. take care of my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter on a train, so please forgive me if it is full of typos and mistakes...  
> I tried to fix most of it but I'm sure I missed tons.  
> But maybe I can mollify you by posting two chapters today.

 

Castiel was just leaving the house, when Dean pulled up in the drive way. He waited for Dean to turned off the motor and slip out of the car. When he did, he saw Dean's bright smile and relaxed a bit.

“Hello Dean.”

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I'm starving and we have no food.”

“No, we don't. I wanted to go grocery shopping yesterday but I kind of forgot.”  
Dean looked a little guilty, so Cas hurried to reassure him.

“I could have done it. If it was really necessary.”

“And how did it turn out the last time you went shopping?”  
Dean smirked and leaned back against the car.

“I don't know what you are talking about.”  
Cas said blushing but walking closer to Dean and giving him a quick kiss.

“Oh, I bet you don't. But let me remind you...”

“Please don't.”  
But Dean ignored him and continued talking.

“You bought strawberries instead of blueberries which made it very difficult to make a blueberry pie. But I could have handled that. But if I remember correctly you also bought sour cream with garlic instead of regular, which was a little more exotic than I wanted the filling to be. And do I really have to remind you that you asked me what the difference between eggplants and zucchini was?”

“Please stop talking now.”

He really did not want to relive the nightmare that dinner had been. Dean had cooked for him and his family, but since Cas had no idea what he was doing when it came to food, Dean had to improvise a lot that evening, having to find a way how to make a pie without cream and eggs, which Cas forgot to buy in the first place and apparently it was also difficult to make baked eggplants with zucchinis. Dean had already been stressed about meeting his boyfriends family for the first time and that certainly had not been helpful at all in terms of keeping him calm.

“Alright, now that we cleared that up, do you wanna have lunch with me and then you can stay there while I go shopping?"  
Dean flashed a bright smile at him and spread his arms in an invitation. Cas walked even closer and gladly hugged Dean close.

“Lunch sounds good, how about we just grab a bite at the supermarket There's a food truck right?”

“You wanna come with me, to do the shopping?”

“Uh...yeah?”

“Cas, you don't only suck at shopping, you hate it.”  
Dean looked at him quizzically but then shrugged and let go of him to get in the car.

 

***

 

He watched Cas climb into the car, hesitating for a moment. There was obviously a reason for Cas wanting to go shopping with him. Apparently his efforts to convince him that he was fine, hadn't been as successful has he thought. But he was probably right. He felt pretty okay so far, but it was just a matter of time before he would freak out big time. And if he was honest he wanted Cas to come with him. Seeing Ben and Lisa had taken his mind of things, but now he felt the anxiety creep back in, Cas kept all the bad things away. So he got into the car, smiled at Cas to let him no that he knew what he was doing and was okay with it.

They arrived at the supermarket short after and went to grab some lunch. Cas would definitely need the energy later. Dean smirked and wondered how long it would take for Cas to reftett coming with him. They got in line to order and Dean noticed Cas throwing nervous glances in his direction. Dean decided to ignore it for know. Cas would take when he wanted to, he took his hand and squeezed it lightly before letting go again to take their food.

„Let's just sit down over there while we eat.“

They walked towards a bench and sat down, both hungrily digging in.

„Watching people do sports always makes me hungry. Don't want to imagine what actually working out would do.“

Cas smiled at him.  
„Good game i take it?“

„Yeah it was alright, Ben was awesome. He was thrilled to see me.“

„It was nice of you to go.“

„I promised.“

„Well it was nice of you to promise in the first place.“

„I just wanted to make sure, how he was handling things. You know with the new baby and all.“

„So you didn't go because you adore Ben, but because you wanted to see if he poses a problem to David.“

„Shut up.“  
Dean blushed.  
„Maybe, both.“

„So what do you think. Did he warm up to the idea of Lisa and Matt adopting another child?“

„Yeah. He actually seems to be exited about it now. I think he will make a good brother. But I will still talk to him about it at our next appointment.“

„I wish every social worker would take their work this seriously. It would save a lot of children a lot of pain.“

„Yeah, and if it didn't pay like crap maybe more people would do it...“

Dean noticed Cas wanting to say something, but then deciding against it.  
„What is it Cas?“

„You know, you could do it full time. You don't need to work at Bobby's.“  
Dean was silent for a moment and just looked at Cas.

"I mean you can do what you want, obviously but if you want to... We don't need the money.“

„I... can we talk about this some other time?“

„Sure. Whenever you want to.“

They finished their food in silence, Dean thinking about Cas' suggestion, but he wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

„Ready to go?“

„Uh yeah, just one more thing...“

Cas seemed nervous now, as if he wasn't to sure if he wanted to bring the topic up.

„Cas?“

„So, uh, I looked at your cook books this morning.“

„Alright. And why does that have you all nervous? Did you find porn in between them?“

„No, I didn't find porn.“

„So what did you find? Cas, quit talking around it and just tell me, you are making me nervous.“

„I saw your Mom's book...“  
Cas said cautiously, waiting for Dean to react. Dean flinched slightly, like anytime someone brought up his Mom, even if it was Cas. But then he smiled.

„Yeah, I found that while I was cleaning. I mean I knew I had it, but... for all the trouble I went through getting it...“

Dean scooted closer to Cas, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers. He glanced at Cas who was looking at him a little bewildered. Dean had gotten better at talking about things, but volunteering information about his Mom and/or his feelings about them was not something that happened often and when it did it had usually something to do with Dean being drunk.  
So Cas just nodded encouragingly and squeezed Dean's hand.

„Before I left, I started looking for it. I couldn't exactly ask him if he still had it. But I remembered him looking at it from when we were kids. It took me two weeks to find it. But the minute I found it I was out of there. I wanted something to remember her by. Almost everything... burnt. It's the only thing I have of her.“

„Dean, did you ever... uh open it?“

Dean laughed quietly.  
„You know I never did. If I had tried to make 'her' pie and it hadn't tasted the way I remembered it... I don't think I could take it. Everything I make is like I remember it, or heard people say how she made it, but it never tasted the same to me. Why do you ask?“

„There's a picure in it. Of your Mom and you. It was between the pages, it fell out when I looked at it.“

Cas gave Dean a few moments to let that sink in, watching his face change from surprise to sad to happy and back to sad.

„Dean...?“

Whatever he wanted to say got cut of by Dean pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Maybe it was better this way, he hadn't exactly known what to say anyway.  
It took Cas a couple of moments before he realized Dean was crying. He only noticed when he felt wetness at his cheek.

„Dean, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...“

„No...“

Dean pulled back and now Cas could see that he was smiling despite the tears still in his eyes. It was both a sad and a happy smile.

„Thank you. I always hated that I didn't have photography of her. And now I do. Or I always had it, but you know... Thank you for telling me about it. I know it's not an easy topic to talk to me about.“

„You're welcome. Now, I recall someone once saying something about no chick-flick moments. And I thinks this qualifies.“

Cas pulled Dean up and gave him one last tight hug and then said with fake enthusiasm:

„Let's go shopping.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably wont be able to update as quickly from now on.  
> I'm back at college now and I will have to write a lot of things that are a lot less fun than this.  
> I promise to do my best.


	9. if you truly knew me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that! I managed to write a short chapter for you guys.  
> It's not as long as I'd like it to be but college is siriously kicking my butt at the moment.  
> I feel like I am drowning in term papers, assignments and presentations.  
> And I was right, this is way more fun!  
> I'm hoping that I will be able to update quicker but I am not making any promises.  
> Anyway thank you for all the lovely comments, you are amazing!

When they finally arrived at home, Castiel was exhausted. Dean had dragged him through the entire store multiple times, while trying to decide what he wanted to cook for his brother.  
Apparently he wanted to go all out and was planning a menu that would have put their last Christmas dinner to shame.  
When Dean had started talking about lobster and something that sounded french and Cas had no idea how to even spell, he saw no other choice than to step in and threaten Dean with ordering food from a sushi place downtown, that Dean absolutely hated.  
Luckily Dean saw reason and agreed to cook a simpler dinner. Still, Castiel was convinced that the only reason Dean abandoned his original plans was that the store did not actually have any lobster which Castiel will be eternally grateful for.  
  
When entering the kitchen, Dean immediately busied himself putting everything away and Castiel knew better than to try and help.  
Instead he sat down at the table and pretended to read the newspaper while secretly glancing up at Dean every two seconds, who was sneaking glances at something himself.  
Cas was about to offer giving Dean a moment to look at his Mom's book alone, but as it turned out he wasn't too secretive about his weary glances and worrying and Dean kicked him out of the kitchen sending him to their bedroom.

So now Castiel was sitting on the bed pouting like a child that had been sent to its room. But then again, that was exactly what had happened.  
Well, technically he was supposed to clean the bedroom, but it was already spotless, at least to Cas it was. Dean might see things differently.  
He sighed and grabbed a book from his nightstand and started to read, hoping that Dean would come and talk to him if he needed him.

 

***

 

Meanwhile Dean was finishing up putting everything away, when he he pulled out an item he most certainly did not buy. In his hands he was holding a small golden picture frame.  
Cas must have snuck it into their shopping cart when he wasn't looking. Dean didn't even know the supermarket sold picture frames.  
He gently set the picture frame down on the kitchen table and again looked at the stack of book Cas had put back on the shelf.  
Slowly he walked over and gently reached for his Mom's notebook. He stared at it for a long time before deciding to just get this over with.  
He had planned on waiting to open it until he felt calmer before looking at the picture.  
But now that he had the book in his hands, he desperately wanted to know, to see the picture, to make sure it actually existed.  
He wondered if she looked like he remembered her. What if he remembered her wrong? Maybe she wasn't the same? He felt his heart beat faster and his breath came shallow and to fast.  
He knew he needed to act before he lost control over his emotions. He looked back at the table where the picture frame was glowing lightly in the sunlight. Just like Mom's hair, Dean thought.  
Finally making a decision he opened the book and tenderly flipped the pages until – Mary Winchester smiled at him.  
Dean reverently touched her face. “Mom” he whispered. This was the first picture of his Mom he had seen in over twenty years. His memory wasn't even close to the picture. She was even more beautiful and her smile was bright light the sun. It took Dean a while before he noticed the young boy next to her. He knew that was him, but he didn't remember the picture being taken.  
He saw a few similarities between himself and his Mom and couldn't help but wonder if they were still there. He sat down at the table and put the book down, using the opportunity to wipe his eyes and cheeks dry. Then he gently placed the picture into the frame and after a few more moments spent staring he got up and went to the living room to place the picture on the shelf next to some pictures of Gabriel, Balthazar mixed with pictures of Bobby, Ellen and Jo.  
He liked how it looked there. Now only Sam was missing in their family photography collection, he thought bitterly but then shoved the thought back down before he went too far down that road.

He went back into the kitchen and started to prepare things for dinner. He tried not to think about what was going to happen at said dinner, instead he focused on slicing vegetables, preparing the salad and marinating the chicken. It was still to early to actually start cooking but this was a very good distraction. Once he prepared everything he could, he started setting the kitchen table, but then changed his mind and decided to prepare the bigger table in the living room they used when they had guests. Once he finished he looked at the time, one more hour before he could do anything else. There was nothing left for him to prepare. The house was spotless and the only thing the food would require later on was putting it in the oven. No need to worry.  
Dean knew from past experiences that doing nothing was never a good idea. Having nothing to do gave him way too much time to think. To imagine every scenario possible, everything that could happen, every possible reaction Sam could have when he found out he was gay. 

 

***

 

Castiel was half asleep when he felt the mattress dip beside him and then arms wrapped themselves around him and pulled him towards a very warm body. Cas was more than happy to obliged and willingly went into Dean's arms.

“Exciting book?”  
Dean whispered into his hair, Cas could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yes, very. The story was so thrilling I needed a break.”  
He felt Dean's silent laughter and decided to open his eyes. He was met with an amused gaze and sparkling green eyes.

“Really... what happened?”

“I don't remember. Honestly, who likes this book? It sucks.”

“Your brother.”  
Dean had begun tracing patterns on Cas' arm, gently holding him against his body as if he was afraid Cas would move a way if he let go.

“That should have been my first clue. Remind me to never read something he recommends ever again.”  
Cas snuggled closer to Dean and kissed him softly.  
“How are you?”

“I don't know. I feel weird. I keep waiting for something to make me lose it. But I feel fine so far. I'm nervous as hell, but I think it could be worse. I hate this though. Doing nothing. I can't do anything. Waiting around is driving me insane.”

“When is Sam coming?”

“Two hours.”  
Cas could hear the impatience clearly in Dean's voice.

“So, there is nothing to be done for the next hour or so?”  
He asked while gently stroking up and down Dean's chest and then pressing soft kisses to his throat and jaw.

Dean smirked down at him.  
“What are you doing?”

“Nothing?”

“Are you trying to distract me and make me stop worrying?”

Cas smiled innocently at him.  
“I'd never...”

“Because if you are, I like your methods...”


	10. Would You Still Want To?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ahm, yeah. Hi.  
> I am so sorry for making you guys wait so long, I promise to do better. Please forgive me.  
> I got so distracted by real live I didn't write a thing for ages. Moving half around the world will do that to you.  
> Anyways, thank you all for your paitience and lovely comments and I will try to actually manage regular updates, but fair warning, I suck at time managment...

When Sam pulled up the driveway the first thing he noticed was the Impala. He had to admit he never truly expected Dean not to have her anymore, but he was still relieved to see that his brother hadn't changed to much. He laughed at himself when he noticed that he just referred to the Impala as a she. Apparently Dean has rubbed off on him.

Even though he had been pretty sure about Dean not giving up the car, she had been their Dad's and Dean had told him that he died in a car crash, so wasn’t sure if the Impala had been involved. Or if Dean wanted to keep anything that had ever been their Dad's considering that something rather big between the two of them must have happened.  
He exited his own car and walked over to the car he spent half his childhood in. He gently stroked the roof and glanced inside. She looked exactly like he remembered it. Maybe even better.

“ Apparently being ridiculous attached to cars runs in the family,” Sam heard a low voice behind him. He turned around and saw a dark haired man leaning against the door frame. “Dean sent me to check if you chickened out already,”  the man spoke again.  His voice was quiet, but still loud enough for Sam to hear him, “I am assuming you are in fact Sam?”

Sam finally found his voice, “ Yes, I am. And you are?”

“Castiel,” He didn't seem too keen on elaborating further than that.

Sam gathered all his nerves together and walked towards him, putting his hand out for Castiel to shake. He glanced at it for a second then took it.

“Now before we go in there-” Sam couldn't help but think that that began to sound like a threat, “I just want to make sure that we understand each other. Dean might forgive you, but I think you should know, that his friends and family will not be as forgiving.”  
Sam nodded solemnly, “I  gathered as much.”  
“ Good. I will not stand for it, if you hurt him again. In fact,” Castiel paused for emphasis, “I  feel it is necessary to point out to you that if you do hurt him, in any way whatsoever, even unintentionally, you will not like the consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

“ Crystal _** , ** _ ”  Sam was astonished by how intimidating the guy was. His blue eyes were narrowed and his gaze was cold and everything in his posture screamed protective,  “there are a few things that I can’t promise, but I can promise you that I have no intentions to hurt him, I am so grateful that he even considered talking to me. Honestly I am still waiting for him to punch me in the face and tell me to get lost.”

His stare softened somewhat at Sam's miserable expression, complete with the drowned puppy look and he opened the door, “As long as we're clear. And I also hope you realize that the only reason I am not doing exactly that is that Dean asked me not to.  Dean is in the kitchen. Follow me.”

Sam followed him inside, still wondering who the hell the guy was. He hated to admit it but he was in fact intimidated. So he followed quietly trying to take in the house on the short walk to the kitchen. He was very surprised by how homey this house felt. Thinking back, Dean had never bothered to put of pictures or to personalize where they were staying. But the entrance area he was in now already had a very comforting air to it and Sam immediately felt at home. He tried to be subtle while giving the hallway a once-over but judging by the amused face Castiel made he was not very successful.   
The hallway was only dimly lit, but Sam could here quiet rock music coming from the other end, where a door was only half closed. The kitchen, Sam presumed. On the left were stairs leading to the upper level which propably contained the bedrooms. To the right there was a door which looked like to might lead to the garage, if Sam remembered the built up of the house correctly. But then again, he didn't really pay attention while walking up to the house earlier, he had been to preoccupied with his nerves and the Impala. The floor was hardwood and well kept, like the rest of the place, the walls were painted in a soft beige and covered in pictures and letters. Sam would have loved to stop and have a closer look but Castiel had already reached the kitchen and turned around, waving him forward. As soon as Castiel opened the door to the kitchen wide, they were hit with the most amazing smell. Sam was immediately reminded of thanksgiving,remembering all the times his brother cooked for him.

“Hey Sam,” His brother's voice drew him out of his memories, “I see you met Cas.”  
Sam nodded. “I did.”  
“Did you give him the you hurt him and you're dead speech?” Dean asked Castiel, who smirked at him, with so much warmth in his gaze.

Sam could hardly believe that the almost hateful stare he had gotten before and the now brightly sparkling blue eyes belonged to the same man, “I might have. But at least I did not punch him. I will leave that to Jo.”  
“Be nice.” Dean scolded.  
Castiel smirked at him and then offered Sam a beer, “We do also have wine if you’d prefer?”  
Sam happily accepted the beer and just about when Castiel handed Sam his botte and went to grab two more from the fridge the oven timer gave a loud beep.

“Alright then, dinner is ready. Why don't you take the drinks, Sam. Cas, can you grab the vegetables and show Sam to the living room?” Dean asked while checking if the chicken was ready, he seemed to be content and took it from the oven.

“ Let's eat!”

***

Dean took a final deep breath before entering the living room.

As he entered the room he saw how Cas gently pried Sam away from their collection of family pictures. Which included the picture of him and... - but before he could seriously freak out he noticed that the biggest picture standing on the commode was in fact turned around.  
Apparently Cas had been doing more than reading in the living room just before Dean asked him to see if Sam was planning on leaving his car or if he wanted to spent the evening outside in the driveway.  
He put the dish on the table and whispered a quiet thanks to Cas who innocently smiled at him and then started to put the food on the plates. When everyone had more food on their plates than they could possibly eat and after Sam and Cas had complimented Dean on his cooking skills the conversation came to a hold for a moment.

Then Sam glanced between Dean and Cas and asked, “Sorry, but you never said, how do you know each other?”  
Dean stopped his movements, the fork centimeters from his lips. He slowly breathed out and in, lowering the fork. He must have stared at Sam longer than he noticed because Cas decided to answer, “I'm his best friend.”  
Sam seemed content with the answer, but Dean sure as hell was not, “Cas...”  
Cas looked at him and gave him a reassuring smile, telling him that it was alright and that he didn't mind. But Dean minded. A lot actually. And he needed his brother to know if he wanted to let him back into his life he needed to be certain about him. So Dean took his beer and took a long pull before placing it back down on the table and then turning his gaze on his brother who seemed concerned after witnessing their silent conversation.

Dean took a deep breath in order to calm himself and spoke up, ” Uh, he is not. No, that came out wrong, I mean he is, but don't let Charlie hear I said that, or Jo for that matter. Cas - I uh, what I want to say is-”  
Sam might have found Dean's nervous rambling entertaining, but all Dean could read in his face was open curiosity and growing concern.

Dean gave up. He was never going to get the words out. So he pulled his left hand from his lap and placed it on the table. He could tell the exact moment where Sam noticed the plain golden band on his finger. He could tell, because Sam choked on his beer.

“Holy shit. You're married,” and as an after thought he added, “and you weren’t wearing that before.”  
“ No, I don't wear it on my finger a lot. I work with cars and I don't want to scratch it.”

“I knew it. You were lying when you said you didn't have a girlfriend,” Sam smiled. He seemed very proud of himself, “but you wanted to tell me who Cas is. Unless you want to continue that ramble from before. Which I found highly entertaining by the way.”

Dean decided to wait until Sam figured it out for himself. He always was a bright kid and apparently he was still smart since he was a lawyer now.

But Cas apparently decided that Sam needed help and to make it easier for Dean's brother because he, too placed his hand on the table as well.  Sam, noticing Dean watching Cas  followed his glance and his eyes widened. Dean held his breath.

***

“Oh. You're married,” Sam glanced between a very pale looking Dean and an extremely worried looking Castiel. Sam took a sip of his beer. Then he finally took in his brother's completely panicked expression and it clicked. This was the reason Dean and their dad had a big fight. His big obedient brother standing up to their dad because of a boy. Out of love. The one thing Dean had always made fun of: “ _ It's ridiculous what people do out of love. It makes them do crazy things. Things they would never do for themselves, risk things they'd never risk. Love makes people go to extremes to make someone like them so they won't leave them. It's insane, and it's pathetic.”  _

“ Dean?” he heard Castiel ask drawing Sam back out of his thoughts, “you need to breathe.”  
Sam shot him a worried look but Cas was completely focused on Dean, his hand half reached out for him, but not touching.

It was in this moment, when Sam was looking at the terrified face of his brother's husband, he finally understood.  
He saw the complete panic on Dean's face, the face of the little boy, who had carried him out of their burning home and finally, after all the years he spent away from his brother, Sam realized that the little speech about love that Dean gave him on a rainy afternoon. On the same afternoon that Sam had gotten his heart broken for the very first time had not been about a girl. It had not been about a girl at all.

Sam realized that D ean had not been making fun of being in love with someone, it had been about loving someone more than oneself. And he wasn't making fun of it, he was openly and earnestly telling Sam how dangerous it was to love someone more them oneself.  
In that moment, while Sam had been crying against his shoulder, Dean had told him that he would do anything, absolutely anything for Sam, stopping at nothing to protect him.

And suddenly all the bruises Dean had claimed to stem from playing football or the scratches on his knuckles explained away with working at a car shop, the broken bones Dean had blamed on being a klutz and falling down stairs began to come together and formed a very new  version of his brother’s childhood. And with that came to be a different and very troubling picture of their dad.

This coupled with a new understanding of the boy that had been his brothe r caused Sam to unceremoniously blurt, “Ho ly Shit!”

  
  
  



	11. Can you forgive the boy I used to be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... I suck. I am so sorry.  
> I promise this will be finished one day. One day in the far away future.  
> Anyways... enjoy!

Castiel didn't care about Sam's reaction, he was completely focused on Dean. Dean, who sill hadn't moved or even blinked.   
He was staring unseeingly at his hand, the golden wedding band glittering in the light. Cas wasn't sure if he was even breathing. It had been a while since Dean had had a panic attack or a flashback.   
He had been slowly getting better over the years and in the last few months, especially after the wedding and by now even his anxiety issues had been mostly under control.  
„Dean, love. Can you look at me please?“ Cas said, his voice barely above a whisper. As he expected Dean didn't react.  
„Dean,“ he repeated, a little louder this time, while slowly pushing his chair back and then kneeling down in front of his husband.  
Even though he was moving quietly and very very slowly and deliberately he seemed to have startled Dean, as he winced as the chair skidded back on the floor.   
It was enough to pause Dean's impending spiral into complete panic, but not enough to actually stop it from happening. The spark of reality disappeared as quickly from Dean's eyes as it had appeared.  
Watching the usually bright and sparkling green eyes of his husband fill with fear and tears, Cas had to fight against tears himself, a fight he knew he was going to lose in the long run.   
Ha hated feeling this helpless and useless, not being able to help Dean through his panic attacks was horrible for him. It physically hurt him having to sit next to the man he loved more than anything in this world and not being able to comfort him, not being able to really touch him, while all he wanted was to cradle him close to his chest and hold him forever in his arms, to protect him from everything and everyone but especially Dean himself.   
But Castiel needed to keep it together. Though he had to admit, judging by the way Dean was slipping further and further away and into past memories, he was out of his depth.  
Usually when he stared to shut down he still reached for Cas, telling him what he needed, be it with words or gestures. It had been years since Cas had not have a clue what to do and it scared him.  
“Dean, listen to my voice, you're safe, I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise. You know I won't. I am right here, love...” Cas was interrupted in his desperate attempt to get through to Dean when Sam, whose presence Cas had momentarily forgotten, made a chocked sound.  
Cas forced himself to pull his eyes away from Dean for a moment to check on Sam, only to find the younger Winchester much closer than expected, staring horrified at his brother.  
His arms reaching for his brother in a desperate attempt to help, but judging by the complete and utter heartbroken expression he was wearing, he was completely overwhelmed by the situation, his hazel eyes shining with unshed tears.  
“Castiel?” Sam whispered, without taking his eyes of his brother. “What can I do?”  
There was so much fear and worry in his voice that Cas couldn't help but forgive Sam a little. After everything that had happened between the brothers he could clearly see that Sam loved Dean.   
He could see it in the way his hands were shaking in the effort to not reach out and touch Dean, the guilt, desperation and fear clearly visible in his features.  
“Call his therapist, the number is on speed dial 9.” Cas answered without taking his eyes of Dean while he was pulling his phone out and holding it in Sam's general direction.  
He barely registered Sam taking the cellphone, neither did he hear him speak. He had turned all his attention to Dean who still hadn't moved and judging by the color of his skin stopped breathing altogether.   
Slowly Castiel reached out to take his hand pausing a few inches above Dean's hand, before actually touching him. “Dean, I'm going to take your hand now, okay? It's just me, I am right here, nothing will happen, I promise, you're safe, I am right here with you.”   
He thought that maybe Dean's breathing got a little steadier but when his hand touched Dean's skin, Dean jerked his hand away before running out if the room, the chair he had been sitting on falling to the ground with a loud crash soon followed by the bedroom door being slammed shut.  
Cas kept kneeling on the floor, frozen in the fear of not knowing what to do or what will happen next. He didn't know how long he stayed like that, hands still reaching out, yearning to touch, to comfort.  
Finally Sam's shaking voice, barely above a whisper brought him back to reality. “Castiel? What can I do?”  
It took him a few moments before he found his voice to answer Sam.  
“I... I don't know. I don't know what to do. I... can't... I...” Castiel never managed to explain to Sam what he was trying to say because Sam apparently decided that if he couldn't help his brother by hugging him he could help his brother-in-law by pulling him up from the floor and in a hug, squeezing him tightly and holding on to him for dear life.  
Castiel was so startled by the surprise hug Sam had wrapped him into, that at first he just stood there unmoving until his mind caught up to what was happening and he patted Sam awkwardly on the back. At least he seemed to be able to calm down one of the brothers by physical contact.

Finally a loud and insisting knocking at the front door startled them both.  
“Sorry” Sam mumbled loosening his death grip on Castiel and stepping back, looking uncomfortably anywhere but at Cas.  
But before either of them could reach the door, it was flung open, revealing a short, dark-blond haired man wearing jeans and no shirt and no shoes accompanied by a beautiful dark haired woman, who was not better off, as she was wearing what seemed to be a business skirt, matched with a purple shirt twice her size.

But Sam did not have a lot of time to stare at the barely dressed couple, as the guy headed straight for him, a murderous expression on his face.  
“Gabriel, stop!” he heard Castiel shout, before two well placed hits, one to Sam's stomach and one to his nose knocked him out cold.


	12. the power of things unsaid

The first to cut through the darkness were the voices. The second was the pain.   
He tried opening his eyes but even that little effort made him feel dizzy and the pounding in his head intensified. He took a deep breath, trying to block out the pain hoping to be able to concentrate on the voices.   
“Walk me through it one more time, Gabriel.” The deep voice sounded like the owner of it was having a hard time staying calm and keeping his voice low.  
“Yeah.. ahm, as I said Mikey... I may or may not have punched him in the face and then he may or may not have it his head on the floor when he went down.”  
The other voice sounded a little nervous, but still managed to have a cocky note to it.  
“And why did you decide to punch a perfect stranger in the face?”   
“That's Dean's brother.”  
The silence that followed was a little unnerving but helped Sam to focus on the background and his surroundings. He appeared to be lying in a bed, since he was actually quite comfortable, at least besides the throbbing in his head, to be lying on a couch. The room smelled like disinfectants and rubber. A hospital, Sam concluded.   
Oh, right. I got punched by a guy half my size. And he knocked me out. Why did he do that? Where is Jess...  
But finally the events of the past days and especially hours caught up with him and he shot up in the bed, immediately regretting it, since he was hit by an intense wave of nausea.   
“Dean!” he managed to get out, before he threw up.

***

Gabriel watched with slight remorse as his big brother rushed towards Sam, who finally had woken up. He admittedly was a little relieved to see the young man conscious again. He still felt the punch was well deserved and still could not understand how he was the one to deliver it. He would have bet all his money on Jo to be the one to give the coward and pathetic excuse of Dean's brother a piece of her mind. But then again she was not the one who was interrupted during a date because the date got an emergency page. Gabe was used to interrupted dates and dinners cut short because Kali was called away. He was less used to the emergency being Dean. Castiel and Kali had never said a word about Dean's past to him and he himself had only heard a few hints from Dean. But when he found his own brother in tears and close to a break down himself because he was unable to help his husband, who in so many more ways than by law had become a brother to Gabriel, he threw all promises and warnings in the wind and punched Sam in the face. Whatever the hell had happened to Dean, Sam should have been there for him, like Dean was countless times for everyone who ever gave the slightest indicator they needed help. And since having been on the receiving end of Dean's fierce loyalism pared with protective stubbornness Gabriel knew, with out a doubt that Dean Winchester, now Novak, was the greatest thing that ever happened to his baby brother and for that he now ranked very high on Gabriel's list of favorite people.

*** 

Finally Gabriel was kicked out of the room, while Michael and a few nurses took care of Sam. So now he was leaning against the wall, waiting for his brother to tell him the verdict. After a short while and a cup of something, that was supposed to be coffee, that Gabriel tried to turn into something drinkable with indecent amount of sugar, and a couple of glances to his cell phone, Michael came out.  
“So, the moron wants to be discharged. Which he can be. He has a slight concussion from where he hit his head, and congratulations by the way, you did break his nose.”   
“Jo will be thrilled” Gabriel said contently.  
“Castiel will not, neither will Dean. How is he by the way?” Michael asked.  
“Kali texted me earlier, she wouldn't tell me what happened but she is saying he is alright now. I hope he really is. I am supposed to take Sam back to the house, if he is up to it. Guess, that would be better, you know... with the uhm... concussion. Also that would be amazing for me, because there will be tons of food, and I haven't had one of Dean's pies in way too long. Also, I won't believe Dean is alright, till I see it myself.”   
“Okay, I will go get Sam discharged and tell him to meet you in the parking lot, shouldn't be too long, please give my love to Dean and Cas and please call me later.”   
And with that request and a slight pat on Gabriel's shoulder Michael hurried down the corridor.

*** 

The drive back to Dean and Cas' house was awkward and tense, to say the least. Neither Sam nor Gabriel, knew what to say.   
Gabriel hadn't apologized and if Sam was honest with himself he hadn't expected him to. So the drive was spent in uncomfortable silence. Gabriel had turned off the radio, which Sam was thankful for, since his head hurt like, well like someone had broken his nose. Sam watched the town pass by and tried to think of a way to start a conversation that didn't start with, “you broke my nose and I am actually kind of thankful you did.”   
But sooner than later Gabriel pulled into the driveway and parked the car behind Dean's Impala. But when Gabriel reached for the door Sam stopped him.   
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Sam asked hesitantly.   
Gabriel let go of the door handle and turned around, facing Sam with a curious but guarded look on his face. He nodded.  
“What did I do?” Seeing the other man's confusion, he added, “at dinner, what did I do, to cause Dean's... panic attack?”  
Gabriel stared at him for a moment, obviously considering the answer or if to answer at all, but finally he spoke.   
“From what I heard from Kali and Cassie, you didn't do anything.” Before Sam could interrupt, he held up a hand, thinking for a moment, before continuing. “Kali was worried that this might happen. You bring up a lot of memories and they triggered something. So we were all kind of waiting for it, Dean too. It just surprised us how bad it got. He completely dissociated, he didn't know where or when or with whom he was, so he shut down. It scared the crap out of us. But as Michael told you, he's okay now. We can't know that it won't happen again, but he's taking greater preemptive measures now.”  
They said in silence for a few minutes, Sam trying to process what he just had been told. “Is there something I shouldn't do, under any circumstances? Besides touching?”  
Gabriel gave him an approving nod. “I see now that you care about your brother, which does not make me like you, don't get me wrong. But it makes me hate you a little less. There is no saying what will trigger him and what not, just... don't tiptoe around him or the topic. If you have questions ask him, or Cas. He will tell you what he's comfortable with, or tell you to ask someone else or to mind your own business.”  
“Thank you” Sam said quietly. “I know I did him wrong, I hurt him and I am deeply sorry for that. I... I was so stupid. And then, it just got harder and harder to pick up the phone. I am so grateful he even considered talking to me. I can't blame you guys for being protective of him, but I promise I am trying to do right by him. I want him in my life in any way he is willing to be in it.” 

“Sorry for breaking your nose.”


	13. the truth beneath the past

Gabriel and Sam slowly made their way to the front door, the earlier uncomfortable air between them eased a little by their conversation in the car. They stopped on the porch, Sam impatiently waiting as Gabriel dug around in his pockets for a key.   
Sam wasn't sure what he expected the situation to be at the house. Michael or Dr. Novak as he came to know the man as, had told him enough to ease his worries but Sam was still anxious to see his brother himself and maybe to apologize if deemed necessary. As Gabriel pushed the door open, he was pulled out of his thoughts by loud shouting. That was not something he expected. From what he had been told, he expected Dean to be sleeping or maybe drinking.   
He was not prepared for the shouting. Apparently neither was Gabriel, since he quickened his steps and pushed the door open to the living room with an extremely nervous expression. Sam entered the room behind Gabriel, ashamed of having to admit that he was kind of hiding behind the smaller man. They were met with the sight of Dean sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket while Castiel was pacing before him, to caught up in his shouting to even notice the arrival of the two new persons in the room, who now, being in the same room could finally understand what was being said. 

“How am I supposed to react? What would be the correct response to that! What did you expect me to think? What were you... what are you... Dean!”   
At Dean's name his voice broke into a whisper and Cas stopped his pacing turning towards Dean who was pushing his blanket aside, getting up and walking towards him, but still keeping his distance. As he saw the tears on his husband's face though, he reached out and pulled him against his chest, winding an arm around his middle while his other hand found its way to Castiel hair.   
At the touch all fight drained out of him and he clutched onto Dean, who had trouble supporting the crying man as he tried to maneuver him to the couch while the other man just sobbed in his arms.  
But Sam and Gabriel rushed to help him and together they managed to get them safely positioned on the couch, where Dean pulled Castiel in his lap, while Gabriel maneuvered his legs on the couch, so that he was half lying in Dean's arms and half on the couch.  
Sam could see him whispering quietly into his husband's ear, while gently stroking his back. He was startled when Gabriel spoke.   
“Dean, your shaking, let me take care of him.”   
Dean looked up and for the first time acknowledged their presents. “No, I got him.” and seeing the protest in Gabriels eyes he continued. “He needs this, he needs me.”  
Gabriel nodded hesitantly but apparently decided to let it go and sank to the floor in front of the couch, gesturing to Sam to take the armchair.   
At the movement Dean finally noticed Sam as well, giving him a tiny smile and a nod to convey himself being fine.  
Sam was thankful when Gabriel decided to address the elephant in the room, feeling like it was not his place to ask.

“Dean, what the fuck happened? Usually Cassie is mother-henning the hell out of you after an attack. And when Kali left, she texted me saying everything was fine.”   
Sam watched as his brother carefully shifted on the couch whispering something to Castiel, but he couldn't spot a reaction from him, but now that he was looking for it he could see the tremors in his hands as he held Castiel close.  
Dean sighed and quietly said, “Everything is fine, Cas is just overreacting. And yes, he is heaving an anxiety attack. He'll be fine. He just heard something he shouldn't have.”  
“I thought you two lovesick idiots don't have secrets from each other. For Christ's sake it's close to unhealthy how much crap you know about each other.” Gabriel muttered.  
Dean chuckled and winked at Gabriel but his expression turned serious quickly.   
“He doesn't know everything about my past. He knows a lot, the important parts, but all it really does is hurt him and worry him. I don't need to talk to him about it, I am in therapy for that.   
He doesn't need to be burdened with my past, he already has my entire future to deal with. Besides, I don't really know everything myself, so how could he.”

“What?” Sam interrupted, sheepishly looking down, when Dean and Gabriel turned to look at him. “Sorry” he added.  
Dean looked at him for a moment, before answering.   
“I don't remember all of... it. It's a mixture of PTSD and a head injury. Which makes it more difficult to treat or to live with, because sometimes I don't know what will be an issue before I am in the situation or something triggers me.”

They said in silence for a while, Sam uncomfortably shifting in his chair, while trying to block out the pain in his head. Gabriel seemed to notice though, because he got up and left the room for a moment and returning with a glass of water and some painkillers in his hand. He handed both to Sam, before turning to Dean with a look on his face, that Sam would describe as amused and worried.   
He looked inquisitively at Dean and said, “Did you drug my brother?”  
Dean looked up at him and shrugged while still looking kind of guilty. “Uhm, would you believe me if I said no?”  
“I found your medication on the kitchen table and I know you didn't take any because than you would be asleep right now. Just like Cassie here.” Gabriel said reproachfully.   
“He wouldn't calm down, he never had an anxiety attack before and he kept freaking out, so I tricked him into taking my meds. Don't worry they won't hurt him.”  
“You know that he's gonna be pissed when he wakes up, right?”  
“I think he might not care about me drugging him that much in comparison.”  
Gabriel sighed and pulled up another chair before sitting down again.  
He gave Sam a side way glance and than took a moment to study his baby brother clutching desperately to Dean, even in his drug induced deep sleep. “Does this have anything to do with your... list?”


	14. I haven't given up on you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive my not updating sooner, I had kind of written myself into a corner, which I needed sometime to write myself out of.  
> I changed some of my original idea, it still should all be making sense, if it doesn't please tell me and I will fix it.  
> Thank you all for the ecouragement and lovely comments!
> 
> Please also note, that this chapter is not a happy one. It's nothing too graphic, but please be careful if you feel it might trigger you.  
> TW: suicide attempt, depression

_a few years earlier..._

 

“Dean Winchester! Care to explain to me, why you have not been eating the entire time I was away on vacation?”

Dean winced as he was drawn out of his thoughts by a loud bang as his door was yanked open accompanied by a loud voice, but he kept on staring out of the small barred window watching the people outside bustling around in the garden. As much as they wanted him to join them, he had no desire to join them in pretending to enjoy the weather or that their lives or anything in this world actually mattered, he really wished they would just leave him alone. That they stopped pretending they actually cared about him and not just about saving their own asses. The sun was rising on the horizon, painting the houses and trees in soft light, making it seem less harsh and taking away from the hard edges of the iron fence surrounding the park and secluding them from the outer world. He had watched as the shadows of the trees change their form revealing the forms of the trees and giving way to the soft orange light of the sun, which was now painting his room in soft colors. He would have said that it was beautiful, but beauty had lost its effect on him.

Dean didn't look up or turn around when the light was turned on and a chair drawn up next to his bed, the sound of the chair scratching across the floor increased the pounding in his head and he closed his eyes trying to block out the nausea. He could feel the presence of another person in the room, he could feel her gaze on him, he supposed it should make him feel vulnerable, if he could find it in himself to actually feel anything. So he just waited until she addressed him again, she always did in the end.

“Dean, can you sit up a bit and look at me, please?”  
He tried to, he really did. To no avail as it seemed. “Can you open your eyes for me? I just need you to look at me, please.”  
He struggled for a minute to find the right muscles to turn his head in her direction, at least that seemed to have been successful as he heard a relieved sigh. Finally he managed to open his eyes and tried to focus on the woman leaning over him. As his eyes found hers, he was met with a brilliant smile.

“Hey Doc” he mumbled. His words were slurred, and worry edged into the smile.

“You were doing better when I left last week. Can you tell me what happened?” She leaned forward in her chair and reaching into the pockets of her coat produced a protein bar. “And please eat this.”

Dean reached out with shaking hands and took the protein bar from her hand. Even he was surprised how much effort it took him. He slowly unwrapped it and cautiously took a bite. He knew he should eat, but the last days he had not been able to keep anything down. He coughed as he tried to swallow and a bottle of ginger ale appeared on the bed next to him. Thankful, he took it and took a few careful zips.

“I'm glad you're back.” He almost smiled at the surprise on her face. “You're the only one I actually believe that you care what becomes of me.”

“I do, very much so. You amaze me, Dean. You're strong, you're stubborn, you're kind and a fighter. And I want to see you win. I want to see you take back everything that has been taken from you. And I'd be honored if you let me help with that.”

“Do you think I need help?”

“No. Not really. You already survived. You were way, way past the brink of death, Dean. Medically speaking it is a miracle that you are still breathing. Psychologically speaking, it is as well. Your body and soul fought a war to stay alive.”

“I tried to kill myself.”

“Technically you did. Kill yourself. You were clinically dead for a few minutes.”

They sat in silence for a while, Dean let his eyes fall close and tried to match his breathing to the calm and regular breathes of the woman sharing his silence. He found out quickly that focusing on another persons breathing helped him calm down. Breath was a sign of life, of health. They taught him a few breathing exercises, but his own version still worked the best. Probably because it reminded him of Sammy. He used to listen to his baby brother breathing, when lying awake at night, worrying for his future and his safety. The regular soft sound grounded him and reminded him, that for one more day he had managed to keep his brother safe.

Finally Dean broke the silence.“My father died.”

“I am not sure if my condolences are appropriate here. I am sorry for the pain this causes you.”

“It doesn't. I'm relieved. I wanted him to die. He didn't deserve to survive. But, I'm not entirely sure I did deserve it.”

“Of all the things that happened to you in your life, surviving was the only thing you deserved!” Her voice was fierce and full of emotion, causing him to look up and at her. “You didn't deserve losing your Mum, your father's abuse, your brother abandoning you or the recent things. You deserved none of that. You should have never have had to go through that.”

“I don't know if I believe that.” He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the bottle of soda, twisting the lid around in his fingers. “I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do.”

“You know I can't do that. Only you yourself know what you need to find your will to live an the way back in to life. But, I will help you figure things out. I will do everything in my power to help you succeed. Right now, we need to focus on your physical health, you need to heal. And then, I want you to take everything back that anyone has ever taken from you. I want you to prove everyone wrong, everyone who ever told you, you can't do something, that you shouldn't be who you want to be, who you are. Think about it, make a list. A list of things you wanted to do. And than check all the things of the list. And when you are finished, when you are in control of your life again, you can reevaluate your position on dying. If you come to the same conclusion, when you are in charge of your life, you alone still want to die, not because there is no other way out, not because you think you deserve it, but because you simply don't find joy or happiness in your life, so be it. But give life a chance.  
A chance to give you everything you deserve.”


	15. a long and difficult way back - part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, I suck at regular updates. But there will be updates. Sometimes. I promise.
> 
> TW: Anxietey, Depression, and overall Darkness

a few years earlier...

day 4  
It took a lot out of him to walk back into the hospital after being released only earlier that week. He would have given anything not having to see most of the people in it ever again. Luckily he was staying just a cross the street in a nurse boarding house, where Pamela had been able to get him a room for a month. If he had needed to walk longer then a couple of minutes or had to take public transport he wouldn't have made it. He assumed Pamela knew that and had decided to take precautions. She had texted him an hour before his appointment and reminded him of it. Not that there was anything he could be doing instead. His head still hurt like crazy and alone the thought of eating made him nauseous. The quiet in the house during the day made him anxious and the buzzing of people during the shift changes made him sick, every slam of a door drove him closer to panic. He thought of leaving the room, leaving the grounds, about disappearing and never returning, but he had only made it as far as to the front door the other day when someone had brushed past him in a hurry which had caused him running back into his room and had him throwing up, until the lack of oxygen and exhaustion caused him to finally pass out. He wasn't sure why he had even survived so far, right now he felt like his promise to Pamela was the only thing tying him to life.  
Dean took a deep breath and knocked, it was quickly answered and he was ushered inside. He hesitantly took a seat opposite Pamela, who smiled at him as if he just won a great prize.  
“What?”  
“I wasn't sure you would actually show. I'm glad you decided to come.”  
“Yeah, I wasn't too sure I was coming either. But I am trying this new thing, where I do basically everything my father said was stupid, weak or simply not something men do. And therapy was pretty high on that list.”

day 13  
Slowly, oh so very slowly Dean was getting used to being outside again, he chose the early hours of the day to wander around, exploring the nearby park and watching the sunrise and the town waking up. The walking still exhausted him quickly, he was still to weak for long stretches of being on his feet, but according to his doctors he was healing quite well, whatever the hell that meant. Breathing heavily he looked around for a place to sit down, there were quite a few park benches close, but it was quite cold, the wise choice probably would be the cafe right at the edge of the park, he hesitated for a moment, imagining the warmth and the comfort of a cafe. Too many people, too much social interaction. He sighed, turned and walked towards one of the benches. He checked his watch. He had about an hour before there were going to be too many people on the streets for his comfort. He pulled his jacket closer around him and then his book out of his bag and began to read.

day 21  
A morning walk in the anonymity of the grey morning hours quickly became a ritual of some sorts. He had never liked waking, he got bored of the slowness of it all. But now it brought him peace. He appreciated being on his own, being able to go where he wanted and not having to hurry or to follow the flow of traffic. By now he had added a coffee in the shop around the corner to the ritual. They knew him by now, he had been there almost every day, drinking his coffee in the corner before grabbing some snacks and sandwiches for the day. Usually he went back to his room rather quickly, waiting there until it was time for his appointment with Pamela.

week 6  
Dean was standing next to the heap of metal, which used to be a 67 Chevy Impala, which used to be a home to him, a safe space to hide and spent a few hours reading or just to be away from home. Now it was mangled and broken, maybe beyond repair. Just like me, he thought. He gently touched the wreck, letting his fingers trace the frame. He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him. “Dean Winchester?” He nodded and tried to ignore the pitying look he received from the garage owner. “I was told you want to fix it back up again?” “Yeah, won't be the first time. She's important to me.” The grim look on the man's face softened. He looked him up and down, making Dean fidget. Finally he chuckled and waved some of his workers over to tow the Impala into a work bay. “Listen, if you want you can keep her here, you don't need to bring her someplace else. We don't really have that much business, so we don't need all the bays. But we do need another mechanic.” He held out his hand and after a brief moment of hesitation Dean shook it. It was the first human touch in over six months, he voluntarily accepted.

week 8  
“I still can't believe I got into that death trap.”  
“It's a car, Dean.”  
“No, it's a tin can.” She just laughed and slammed the door shut. “So, this is it?”  
Dean walked around the car, and leaned against it next to her, looking up at the house, which was kind of falling apart if one was being honest. It really needed a good paint job and new windows and all in all, looked abandoned. He nodded.  
“You ready for this?” She asked softly. He turned to look at her and gave her a short smile. “As ready as I will ever be.”  
Together they walked up the steps to the door and Dean unlocked it and pushed it open.  
It took them almost the entire day to put everything in boxes, even though a lot of the stuff was going to go to good will, since Dean really did not want to keep anything that belonged to his father, he still needed to sort through everything. But he most definitely was not ready for that. He wasn't sure what kind of magic pills Pam had given him, but even they could only do so much. At the end of the day, Dean was tired, tense and felt like sleeping for a week. As they loaded the last boxes in the car trailer, the landlord showed up and accepted the key, two more signatures and it was done.  
They got into the car and drove off, leaving behind a house that was never a home and hopefully a piece of the past behind.  
“I know you said, you don't want to stay at my place, but I really don't want you to be alone right now. And honestly it would be stupid for you to search for another apartment, when I have a room to rent. Listen, I know you said you want to live on your own, to prove that you can. But, I tried that. It sucked. I promise I'm an amazing roommate. You can still move out later on, if you really want to, but for now, please just come stay with me...”  
“Oh my god, fine, I will stay with you, just please, please stop talking.”  
He was met with a brilliant smile. He couldn't help to smile himself. “Thanks, Charlie.”

week 11  
The only thing worse, than experiencing something horrible, is talking to people about it. Especially lawyers, with their scrutiny, always trying to find some inconsistencies or contradictions. Just waiting for you to make a mistake. He had told and retold what had happened so many times now, he wasn't even sure what the truth was. He had been questioned upon arriving at the hospital, but he had been drugged and physically and mentally exhausted, he doubted he had made any sense then. He didn't even remember the first weeks, doesn't remember what he said after waking up from surgery. He doesn't even remember most of the things that had happened. So far he wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or a good thing. It made his life easier for sure, but the memories slowly started creeping in, they forced their way into his dreams and turned normal, peaceful moments to pure agony. Each new memory transported him back to a place, he was fighting so hard to forget. Brought back people, he had happily watched die and hoped they spent eternity in a hell worse than they had put him through.

week 13  
A soft knock on his bedroom door, pulled him out of his thoughts. He rolled over, facing away from the door and pulling the blanket over his face. Usually about ten seconds passed after a knock before Charlie came barging in. Especially since she found out exactly how many different pills Dean had at his disposal. Last week she had actually taken his razors away. The door opened and without looking he could picture the look on her face, the look of utter worry and pity. They had become close over the past few weeks and, happily encouraged by Pamela, Dean had begun to explain at least his medical history to her, at least most of it. He had stopped after he had seen the tears on her face and heard her crying in her room the night after. No reason to drag other people down with him. The sound of footsteps told him, that she had entered the room now, he expected the mattress to dip any moment now. He could feel the warmth of her body next to him. It took all his willpower to not move away, to not flinch, keep still and pretend to be asleep.  
“I know you're not sleeping. It's okay, you don't need to talk. I just wanted you to know that I'm leaving now, but if you need me, I will drop everything and come back. Please call me if you need someone to talk to.”  
The rustling of the blanket and her clothes told him that she was reaching towards him, wanting to touch, to comfort. He could feel her hand centimeters away from him. Something must have given him away, because she pulled her hand away before she even made contact. “Sorry” she whispered. The door clicked shut.

week 14  
Pain. So much of it, there was no space for another thought. No air to breath through the pain. No way out. No way away from the pain. No way to make it stop. The pain was blinding him, dragging him to the brink of unconsciousness, but the one inflicting it not merciful enough to let him fall over. Pulling him back every time he was slipping away. “Scream for me. Scream for me.” As if there was a chance to suffer in silence. So he screamed.  
Then it was over. Air was flooding his lungs. Soft hands in his hair. A trembling, shaky voice begging him to wake up. To open his eyes. Kind hands wiping his tears away. Water dripping on his face. No, not water. Tears. Her tears. He opens his eyes.


	16. a long and difficult way back -part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, another chapter already. Please don't get used to it though. Sorry.
> 
> TW: mention of suicide, murder, depression

a few years earlier...

Week 17

  
The door clicked softly shut behind him. He walked down the stairs hesitating shortly before leaving the apartment building. The nights air cool against his face, clearing his mind and helping him focus. He looked the street up and down, checking for anybody noticing or watching him, a habit he probably never will be able to shake.  
Pulling his jacket tighter he started walking. He didn't have a goal in mind as he left and spent most of the night aimlessly wandering without paying mind to where he was going. As the sun began to rise he became aware of his surroundings, for the first time that night.

Of course, this is where he would end up. Before him was the very bridge the Impala went over. The very bridge he almost died at.  
He spent a few moments wondering about his subconscious and what exactly it was saying for his state of mind that he would come here of all places.  
He crossed the street and made his way to the middle of the bridge, where even now the broken railing had yet to be fixed. Instead of wood and metal there was only red tape. A warning sign drawing attention to the scene of the accident. There were no flowers. No pictures. Only same splinters of broken glass.  
He walked closer, until he could see the slow and tranquil flow of the river below, he gently tested the strength of the remaining railing and then leaned against it.

“Dean Winchester! Get the Hell away from that edge!” The panicked shout drew him out of his thoughts. Charlie. Of course.  
He turned around and suddenly had his arms full of her. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tightly. “Don't... Please.... Dean.... Please” Muffled sobs against his jacket. He tried to pry her fingers of him, but her grip tightened. She sure was strong for being so small.   
“Charlie! Let go of me.”  
“I can't. You jump, I jump Jack.”  
Understanding flooded him. “Charlie. I am not here to kill myself. You can let go. I promise I won't. But you need to let go.” Even he could here the edge of panic creeping into his voice. Apparently so could she, as she loosened her grip and took a step back, one hand still reaching for him. He took a deep breath, trying to keep the fear at bay.  
It was easier now, the concern for his friend making it easier to shove everything else down. Another deep breath. He linked their pinkies together in as much contact as he could handle right now and stepped away from the edge, pulling Charlie along, back to where she had abandoned her car. They drove home in silence.

As soon as they entered the apartment Charlie pushed him to the couch and then down on it. A few moments later she thrust a cup of hot chocolate in his hands and set a plate of sandwiches in front of him before sinking on the ground before him. “Don't you ever do that again.” Her voice shook.  
He set his cup down on the table next to him and gently took her face in his hands, making her look him in the eyes.  
“I didn't do anything. There were no plans of doing anything. I was not in any danger. I was no danger to myself.” He could see the doubt and pain in her face, so he continued. “If you can't believe that, believe that I would not have chosen that place. I would not do my father the favor of killing myself at the same bridge where he tried to kill me himself. I won't give him the satisfaction by finishing the job.”  
As he spoke, the doubt vanished. The pain intensified. “The police report said it was an accident.”  
He lowered his hands and leaned back against the couch not meeting her eyes.  
“I know. I didn't tell them. He is dead. What difference does it make. Not like they can arrest him.” His voice sounded lifeless even to his ears. He felt Charlie fidget, wanting to push, to know what happened but being to afraid. When he gave her a soft smile, he was surprised by the fury in her eyes. Fury and grief. He knew the feeling all too well.  
“It wasn't the worst thing he's ever done. As he accelerated the car and told me what was happening I was actually grateful. Only when he yanked the wheel over, I realized that even though I didn't mind dying, I minded dying next to him. That's why I survived. I threw myself out of the car before it went over. No idea how I did it, but it somehow saved my life.”  
  
They sat in silence after he finished speaking. Charlie working through what he just told her, he trying not to relive the moment.  
He was getting better at not slipping back into memories. He thought it was progress. Pamela didn't. She said since he avoided panic attacks by pushing everything down and not working through it by distracting himself and not sleeping he was heading down a disastrous road. But he just couldn't. He didn't feel most of the time. Some things managed to slip through the cracks. Single moments when he felt lighter, but never truly happy, never like himself. Charlie was responsible for a lot of these moments. Basically all of them. Pamela wasn't happy about that either. She had said that he needed to find happiness in himself not in others. He had never been any good at that. His happiness had always depended on the happiness of others.

And now he had made Charlie cry. Again. Cry was not the right word though. She was openly sobbing now.  
He hated that he had done that. This was exactly the reason he had not been telling her more when she asked questions before. She was usually so happy and cheerful. But he managed to make her sad all the time. It was his fault. All of it. He pulled her into his arms holding her tight.  
For a moment she relaxed into his embrace, but then struggled against his hold. “You don't have to.” “I know I don't. I chose to. That's what makes it okay.” And it was.  
There was no screaming in his mind, there was air in his lungs and no danger in her touch. She was safe. He was safe with her.  
  
After a long moment, Charlie pulled back so she could look at him. She gave him a sad look. “You only told me bits and pieces of what happened to you. Didn't you. The accident, the abuse. Him trying to... to murder you. That's the easy part. It's not all?” He looked away, but nodded. “If you want to tell me, I will listen. If you don't want to, don't feel obligated. Thank you for trusting me and please don't hide things from me because you don't want to hurt me. Whatever you need. I'll be there.”


	17. no way back and no path untraveled

a few years earlier...

weeks 18 & 19

_“I didn't do anything. There were no plans of doing anything. I was not in any danger. I was no danger to myself. If you can't believe that, believe that I would not have chosen that place. I would not do my father the favor of killing myself at the same bridge where he tried to kill me himself. I won't give him the satisfaction by finishing the job.”_

The words had not done a very good job at laying her doubt at rest. They scared her. While she believed that he had not been planning on ending his life there and then on the bridge that night, she had understood the true meaning behind them. He did not plan on killing himself. Not because he did want to live, but because his father wanted him dead. And he was trying not to let the unspeakable man win.

Charlie considered herself a nonviolent person, she believed in pacifism. She truely did. But, when it came to John Winchester, she would happily pull the trigger herself. If he still had been alive, she would kill him. Slowly and painfully. The fact that trying to murder his son, was not on top of Dean's list of horrible things his father had done, scared her. But not as much as Dean behavior. He was trying. She could see that. She saw how hard he tried to not let her see how much he was struggling. How he tried not to flinch when someone accidentally touched him. Stood to close to him. Every night she was startled awake by him screaming in his sleep. In the beginning she would rush to his side and shake him awake. But that only caused him to draw further in to himself, refusing to let her help, not talking and refusing to get out of bed. So she stopped. She stayed outside the door, as much as it was hurting her not to interfere.

The days following she kept a close eye on Dean. He was, as far as she could tell, acting like nothing happened. He got up in the morning, he cooked breakfast for the two of them, went to work, did the grocery shopping, went home cooked them dinner, joined her in watching television and went to bed. His actions were like clockwork, nothing changed, nothing varied. The only change in his routine were the therapy sessions and doctor visits every other day. He almost seemed like he was doing alright. But, sometimes when she asked him a question he startled, sometime when she came home too early and surprised him, he was sitting on the couch, not moving and not even blinking, so she had to slam the door shot, for him to notice she was home. And every night, she was woken by his screams.


	18. no path left to walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments and your kindess!  
> I am so sorry I am taking so long to update, life has been in the way of things lately.

week 33

'There is nothing we can do.'  
He knows that phrase. He knows it oh so well. His teacher said it, social services said it, his so called friends said it, his father had used it and now, his doctors had.  
'There is nothing we can do. We can't help you, so we won't even try. We can't help you, we have not power. We can't help you. You can't stay. We can't help. Your on your own.' He always knew that it was all lies. That it meant that they couldn't help without getting in trouble themselves. They could, they just didn't want to.

“I'm sorry Mr. Winchester, I am. But there is nothing we can do about the pain. Technically, your injuries are healed. We are not saying that you are not in pain, but it's not a physical pain. At this point we have to assume that it's psychological, and because of your psych evaluation we are not comfortable with giving you stronger painkillers. You are already taking the maximum dose, we can't up the dose anymore.”

He stared at the young doctor in front of him. He seemed truly sorry for not being able to help.  
Dean sighed. “What about sleeping pills? Can you give me that?”  
“You are having trouble sleeping?”  
Dean snorted. Was the guy serious? “Have you even read my file? Of course I am having trouble sleeping as you put it. I am sure my roommate can attest to that.”  
He received a blank look from the doctor opposite to him.  
“Look, I know I have a lot of psychological issues and I believe you if you say that the constant pain is part of that. But I barely sleep and if I do I am reliving... I dream... about getting the injuries. The physical as well as the psychological ones. I need to sleep, because that would be the only time I don't feel pain. So I need you to give me something, that will knock me out and keep me from dreaming.”  
“Mr. Winchester, with your psych evaluation, there is...”  
“Nothing you can do.”

He left the doctors office, not bothering to pick up his prescription on the way out. The painkillers they were feeling comfortable giving him, didn't do anything. They didn't help with the pain, they only made him feel drowsy, but still in pain. Pamela seemed to be at her wits end with him as well. She didn't come out and say it, but she seemed worried. What she was worried about he couldn't tell. He slowly made his way down the street, picking up some coffee along the way before finally making up his mind about where to go and headed towards the garage. The impala was back to her former glory, it had taken a lot of work and time, but now she was in even better condition than before the accident. 'Call things by their name, Dean. Say what happened. How it really was.' He heard Pamela's voice in his head, before he even finished the though.  
_Before John Winchester dove her of the bridge to kill me._ She had made him repeat the facts of everything that happened he could say it without even flinching. Without even feeling anything. By now it was just words to him. Words without meaning. Words that defined his whole future. If he even had one. There was nothing he could do.

There was nothing anyone could do.

He walked into the garage, which was bustling with noise and people, so he quietly slipped in and got into the Impala, shutting the door softly behind himself. A sense of home welcomed him. Even after everything, the Impala was still home to him. John hadn't stained her. She was still his safe place. Sheltering him from the world. Keeping him sane. Maybe this was what he needed. Not the so called normal life and stability he had never really know. He needed the open road. And he needed to get away. Away from everyone expecting him to freak out, expecting him to break down. Expecting him to be okay, or to be not okay. He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of leather seats and car oil, with a faint hint of whiskey. This was his last resort. If he couldn't fix himself, no one could. He turned on the engine, a hint of a smile on his lips. He slowly backed out of the yard, looking up to see Jack, who had helped him rebuilt her looking at him. They shared a look, Jack nodded and raised his hand in a silent goodbye.

The first minutes on the road did wonders for him. He felt more like himself than he had in a long time. He drove back to the apartment building, enjoying the sound of the motor and the vibration of the car beneath him. As luck would have it, Charlies car was not in the driveway as he pulled in. He knew, that if she figured out what he was up to she would try and stop him. He quickly turned of the engine and hurried up the stairs and into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, taking in the place he called home for a while. But without Charlie there it was just another apartment. He walked into his room, looking around for a moment. Then he grabbed the empty moving boxes he had shoved under the bed after moving in. He quickly put them back together and then proceeded to throw his clothes in one of them. A second one for a few books and his medical files as well as a box with pictures and other memorabilia. His life, all his things fit into three boxes. He sighed and than grabbed two of them and carried them out to the Impala. On his way to get the last box his gaze fell on a framed picture of Charlie and him, taken about a month ago. He grabbed it and put it on top of the things in the box. After one last look around his room, he closed the door. He stopped in the kitchen, grabbing the notepad they used to write their grocery list.

 

> _I'm sorry for leaving while you were gone._
> 
> _But I need to leave and you would have convinced me to stay._
> 
> _I need to go, maybe I will come back._
> 
> _I will be in touch. Thank you for your kindness, your friendship and all your care._
> 
> _You were exactly what I needed._
> 
> _You helped me as much as it was possible for another person to help me._
> 
> _Now I need to help myself._
> 
> _Take care of yourself._
> 
> _Love, Dean._


	19. over the edge and under the water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT a happy chapter. It's still all pretty vague, but please be carefull anyways.
> 
> TW: Depression, Flashbacks to general vague unpleasantness
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and your support!

week 40

Time passed. The days slowly turning in to the next. Bringing more of the same. In the beginning, being alone, being able to chose where to go on a whim did help.  
He felt free, for the first time in forever. Driving from town to town, spending the nights out in the dark driving on the empty highway gave him a sense of security.  
The Impala had always made him feel safe. Past comfort can only do so much when it comes to fixing a new hurt.

The dreams came back. The pain never left. He was struggling to keep going. There was no hiding. The dusty and moldy motel rooms turning into cold basements.  
Hard mattresses into bare concrete flooring. Flickering lights and muffled television sets turning his thoughts into a prison.

No way out. No way back.

_Cold. His first glimpse at consciousness is the cold. There is no light. No sound. He tries to lift his head but a sharp stab of pain stops him. He shivers. Closes his eyes again._

Charlie's calls were as frequent as the day he left. He never answered, but every time she called, he sent a text. Sometime telling her he was fine. Sometimes an empty message. She kept calling. He kept wishing he could answer. He didn't know what to say. There was nothing left to say. He had nothing left to say.

_Pain is dragging him back to reality. He opens his eyes. He thinks he did. It is still dark. Darkness surrounding him. Suffocating him. The next breath stolen by pain. Excruciating, white pain. He passes out._

A few hours of sleep a night turned into less.

_Water splashes over him. Cold. Wet. But no more darkness. Flickering lights. No lights. Fire. Smoke. He coughs. Pain shaking his body. Dragging him back down. More water. More coughing. He opens his eyes._

Until he wasn't sleeping at all.

_Cold, hard floor beneath him. He shivers. Opens his eyes. Trying to sit up. Pounding in his head. The darkness is back. He struggles. Pushing himself up until he is leaning against something solid behind him. He breathes in and out. Trying to breath through the pain. Silence. The smell of smoke lingers._

The sleeping pills he could get over the counter weren't enough. Even when mixed with alcohol, they weren't enough to drown out the darkness, the screams and the pain.

_Time passes. How much he doesn't know. He doesn't know a lot of thing. He doesn't know where he is. He doesn't know why he is where he is. He doesn't know what happened. He doesn't know what day it is. He keeps passing out. Keeps slipping back into nothingness. Sometimes there is water. Almost never there is food. Always there is pain._

_No sense of time. No memory of the past. No knowledge of the present. No hope for the future._

 


	20. rock bottom and a spark in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty dark, there are references to suicide, past and future attempts. Nothing graphic but please be careful.  
> Thank you for your comments and your patience!

Week 50

This was what rock bottom felt like, he assumed. The Impala was parked at the side of the road, heavy rain falling, the raindrops almost making enough noise to drown out his thoughts. Almost. The road before him was slowly turning into a stream. The road behind him disappearing in the dark. There was no way the Impala could make it in this weather. He had pulled over when he couldn't make out the reflector posts anymore.

Now, sitting in the dark, the interior of the Impala cooling down rapidly, he was left to ponder his options. If only he could think, concentrate.  
But if he was being hones with himself, he didn't want options. He wanted out. He wanted all of it to stop. He needed it to stop. Every hope he had had left for the future died when the rumbling sound of the Impala's engine had cut off. He was as trapped on this deserted stretch of highway as he was in his life. No where to go. No where to run.

He closed his eyes, leaning back against the Impala's cool leather seats. He took a deep breath. And another. He forced himself to count, like Pamela had done. And Charlie.   
Briefly he considered calling her, but he'd only worry her, make him her problem all over again. And in the end, he had nothing left to say. All the talking hadn't worked.   
Not the careful professional conversations with the doctors and the shrinks, not the gently prodding questioning by the police, not the harsh accusations of the lawyers, not the loving accepting talks with Charlie. And in the end, he ran out of words.

He sighed, tuning his head peer out to gauge if he could start driving again. As he did so, his gaze fell upon the faded, scratch marks.

D.W. S.W.

Maybe. Maybe there was one more person. One more person he could try with. One person who had always been easy to talk to. Who he had always loved more than anyone and anything in this wold. One more chance, he decided. One more try. It was the last thing anyways. The last thing he had promised to try.   
Everything else had failed, every helpline, every life raft. He almost laughed as he remembered the list he had scribbled on a napkin in the hospital cafeteria. He had mainly done it to get Pamela off his back. There wasn't much on it to begin with, thinking of things he had been wanting to do had been hard. There wasn't much, that was actually achievable. He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and leaned over to open the glove box, rummaging around until he found the wrinkled piece of paper. He smoothed it out, regarding the smudged letters.

_~~get released from hospital~~ _   
_~~place to stay job court?~~ _   
_~~contact Charlie~~ _   
_~~clean out house & sell ~~ _   
_~~donate John's things~~ _   
_~~visit Mom & John's graves~~ _   
_~~fix Impala~~ _   
_~~bake a pie~~ _   
_~~go to a bar & get a drink ~~ _   
_~~finish therapy~~ _   
_~~go to a concert~~ _   
_~~learn how to play guitar~~ _   
_~~roadtrip~~ _   
_Sam_

And there it was. The name at the end of his pathetic list. He still couldn't think of anything better. Maybe there wasn't enough of him left to be a normal person with hopes and dreams and plans for the future. But he had kept his promise to Pamela. He had completed the list. He still felt nothing, the hole in his chest is swallowing him up, and still has to spit him back out. While he had managed to complete the list, actually doing the things had been devastating, not making him feel better, but worse in the end, only reminding him off how much of himself he had lost. Charlie had been a brief spark in his darkness, but her brightness had not chance against the hellfire. He'd complete the list. As he promised. After he could still go back to plan a in the glove box. He shoved the napkin back in, his fingers lingering on the smooth cold grip of his Colt.  
Then in the slammed it shut and in the still drizzling rain, turned the Impala in the direction of Stanford University.


End file.
